


Never Alone

by natashawitch



Series: Never Alone [1]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Humor, Au from Season 7 Finale, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, Lucifer as Sam | Sam as Lucifer, Lucifer's forked tongue, M/M, Memories of The Cage, Mental Health Issues, Post Season/Series 07, Rape/Non-con References, Sam Winchester's Demonic Powers, Sam tries to get Dean back from Purgatory, Submissive/Bottom Sam, Suicidal Thoughts, idek, this fic has a mind of its own
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-10
Packaged: 2017-12-07 18:49:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/751824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natashawitch/pseuds/natashawitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Au from Season Seven finale</p>
<p>Sam is alone. His brother has disappeared into Purgatory. Unconsciously his desperation reaches down to The Cage and Lucifer responds to his vessel.</p>
<p>Crowley, as King of Hell, is concerned that The Boss is stirring. </p>
<p>Dean and Castiel are stuck in Purgatory. Luckily Sam has an archangel to help him find his brother. But will Dean be happy about who is on the rescue team?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ice and Mould

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not mine. Borrowing the characters for my story.
> 
> No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> My sister sort of beta'ed this for me. Not American so apologies if any honour instead of honor and colour instead of color etc remains.

A week since Dean and Castiel had been sucked into a void...

Sam was alone.

He was lying on top of threadbare blankets which covered an uncomfortably lumpy motel bed. It was a marginal improvement on where he had tried to sleep over the previous seven days; at least he could stretch out here more than the back seat of the Impala. He was fully dressed, only having kicked off his shoes and removed his canvas jacket which was splattered with black goo. Seven days of decapitating floundering leaderless leviathan had destroyed the jacket. 

Sam had been mildly surprised that the receptionist had not even blinked at the state of his clothes or the newly stitched red scar on his left cheek, but then maybe she had been on the corn syrup.

The motel was a dive, one of the worst places he had ever stayed in. In fact they had squatted in nicer:

_Don’t think of Dean_

He pushed any thought of his missing brother down.

The paper was peeling away near the ceiling and Sam could smell the dampness. The shower-room was even worse. The sink basin was filthy and coming away from the wall and the plumbing had made nasty pumping noises before spewing yellow water from the faucet. The light bulb had flickered as he entered the bathroom, and to be careful, Sam had pulled the EMF reader from his duffel. There was no activity. He had salted as soon as he had entered the motel room. Once out of the bathroom he had collapsed to sleep on the bed.

It was very late or very early depending on your point of view. Sam stirred. 

Something or someone was behind him on the bed. He leapt up, covered in perspiration, grabbing the demon knife from under his pillow. There was nothing there. The room was cold, icy, and too cold. He could see his breath. He dived for the EMF reader. It wasn’t in his bag. He had left it on the shelf in the bathroom. He edged slowly towards the bathroom, keeping his back to the wall, looking left and right. Nothing was there. He switched on the overhead light in the bathroom. It flickered again. He snatched up the EMF and turned it on. Nothing. He bounced it off the side of the sink.

_Work, You useless freaking piece of crap._

It stayed silent. He remembered when Bobby was haunting them and the EMF only registered Bobby’s presence around the whiskey flask. 

_Dean? No. Dean is not dead._

Crowley had said that Dean and Cas were in purgatory, but how much could he believe Crowley? Demons lie.

Sam turned on the hot tap, hoping there would be enough heat in the water to steam up the cracked mirror over the sink. As he waited for the mirror to fog up he tried to go through a mental list of all the invisible monsters he could think of, who would not set off the EMF and could break through the salt barrier. It was not a long list. He needed to get some proper sleep as his brain was not co-operating. The mirror had fogged over.

Sam waited. He wondered if he should try and communicate with whoever or whatever was there.

_Not Dean, push this thought away._

Maybe he should get the oujia out of the trunk. He walked back into the bedroom. The dampness on the walls had changed into ice crystals. Suddenly he laughed aloud at the spontaneous thought of Castiel, head tilted to one side, being fascinated by the beauty of ice crystals. 

_Get a grip._

Then he heard it. The gentle sound of a finger writing on the mirror. He spun around to look at the words on the glass.

__I HAVE NOT LEFT YOU ALONE_ _

__As Sam looked the letter B started the next word._ _

_Is the word Brother? Dean?_

__Sam blinked. His eyes opened._ _

__I HAVE NOT LEFT YOU ALONE. BABY._ _

_Shut up._

__From the other side of the glass Lucifer smiled at his vessel._ _


	2. The Clock Ticks

A clock had begun to tick in Crowley’s office. The ticking had started 6 minutes ago. 

It interrupted Crowley’s paperwork. Not that he minded the interruption because if there was one thing about being King of Hell that he could not abide it was the never ending paperwork and contract corrections. Sometimes he wondered if he would have bothered claiming the unexpected vacancy of Hell’s ruler, if he had known there would be so much of it. He had made strides to reduce the amount of red tape he had to deal with by introducing his ‘Hell Is Queuing’ system. After all he had received a commendation of the invention of queuing back in the day.

The manifestation of a ticking clock in an office that Crowley had personally conjured into existence was a concern. He had deliberately not included any timepiece in his office, as one time he had gone to great expense to get a Hell-time chip fitted to a sleek black watch he was fond off, only to find out that it always read as ‘too late’. He stood up from his black leather office chair and approached the clock. It was a small black digital one with glowing red numbers. It was counting up from zero by the second. At this moment it read 9:56. He laid his hand on the top of the clock and he felt a distinct pull to somewhere else. He knew it must be linked to somewhere specific in time and space. Crowley silently considered how it could have arrived and why. He wondered if Azazel or Lilith had ever encountered similar but they were gone, permanently. As far as he knew he was the oldest demon in Hell and one of the very few fallen angels left. If reports from Above were in any way accurate he was one of the very few of angel stock left. The younger demons had all fallen hook line and sinker for the tale that he had once been Fergus McLeod, the soul whose meatsuit he favoured, and this had been a valuable deception when Fergus’s bones had been burned during a tricky situation.

Crowley considered what he should do about the clock. He decided whatever it was it needed to be dealt with. So he focused on the red numbers, moved into it and disappeared.

Crowley reappeared in a sultry motel car park at nite. He sniffed the air and recognised Wisconsin. Glancing around to get his bearing, he cursed. There was the freaking Impala. “Sam ‘bloody moose’ Winchester” he muttered cynically.

Crowley had not been summoned and there was no sign of anyone, human or supernatural in the carpark. 

He noticed the ice. It was spreading out in a slow fan-like way along the ground from the entrance of one of the ground floor rooms. The window of this room was completely iced over and the ice was creeping up the walls of the building. Crowley would bet anything that Sam Winchester was in that room. He took a couple of steps towards the room and the demon wards revealed themselves. “No going inside then”, he breathed, “But what is happening in there?”

It had never been easy to deter Crowley when he decided that he wanted something. If he couldn’t get in then maybe he could get Sam to come out. He produced a slender black phone from his suit pocket. He didn’t have Sam’s number but he had a few of Dean’s. He laughed to himself at the idea that if he called the wrong one a phone would ring in purgatory. He tried the first number but there was no connection maybe that was the one in Dean’s pocket. The next one produced a ringtone, but it went to voicemail. “This is Sam, if you need help, leave a message and your number.”

Crowley demanded down the phone, “Sam Freaking Winchester, you overgrown moose, get out here now, or I will smite your car!”

Crowley waited a moment. The motel room door opened a crack and Sam’s head peered out at him. He looked dreadful, gaunt with a haunted expression, a bloody cut on his cheek and ice in his hair.

“Can’t come out, leave Her alone” and he slammed the door shut. 

Crowley had had enough. It was a bad night. He roared at the motel room “Get out here now and tell me what is going on, you asshole!”

Sam poked his head out so briefly Crowley nearly missed it, but he heard the two words Sam said, “Lucifer’s here”.

That stopped Crowley in his tracks. He gathered his thoughts together. Lucifer was still in The Cage, if he had gotten out surely the whole of creation would have felt it. 

Was Sam hallucinating again? Perhaps the loss of his brother had driven him over the edge? However not only had Crowley always maintained a healthy suspicion that those hallucinations had been a bit more than normal crazy issues, there was also evidence that schizophrenia was not the right explanation for what was occurring. First a clock had invaded his office. Second if this was all in Sam’s damaged mind then why were there tentacles of ice spreading out towards him. Crowley’s concern linked in to a memory that he had avoided thinking about for a very long time. Eons ago, so long ago he couldn’t put a time span on it, Crowley had gone to look at The Cage. He was a young demon, more of a fallen angel at the time, and it was curiousity that drove him down to the lowest depths of Hell, to see for himself where that dick Michael had imprisoned Lucifer. The Cage was fire, not just burning but made of fire. It blazed and all the space within it burned, except for an island, an oasis of ice, and there burning cold with rage was the Morningstar. Crowley had moved out of there as quick as he was able but he remembered the dread and the cold power used to keep back the flames.

Now Crowley considered if something could be wrong with The Cage and if he should send one of his demons down there to check. After all The Cage was in his domain. Perhaps there was a leak of some kind. Was that even possible? The most important thing to Crowley was Crowley, and he was seriously worried about how he would be impacted, if Lucifer and the rightful Boy-King of Hell were having some kind of communion less than 12 feet away from him. 

Time to go back to Hell, he decided.


	3. Hitting the road

Sam was heading due south. 

The rev limiter was under strain and the road was a blur. Sam didn’t have a particular destination, just south, somewhere warm, Mexico perhaps. 

He was freaking out. 

An hour ago he had stopped for gas and the TV on the wall above the cashier had shown a news report of a freak weather occurrence in Wisconsin where a motel had iced over and the emergency services were extracting the frozen dead from their rooms. Sam had hightailed it back into the Impala as quick as he could. The car kicked up the dirt as Sam spun away from the pumps to the south-bound lane. On any ordinary day Sam would have been driving in the opposite direction, heading to the motel to investigate the news report. This time it was different. The report was the final nail in the coffin of his hopeful theory that he had begun hallucinating again. Really he had known he was not hallucinating, especially when Crowley had shown up and demanded he come out of the room, but he still couldn’t fathom how Crowley had known that something was wrong. 

Wrong was such a short non-descriptive word for what had happened during the night. 

Sam slammed his hand onto the wheel to help him focus on the road. 

Somehow Lucifer, or some part of Lucifer, had been behind the mirror in the grubby motel bathroom. Sam had been immobilised in shock until Crowley’s roars snapped him out of it. He remembered telling Crowley that Lucifer was there and then ducking back inside to check if anything had changed. Then ever so slowly the light had started to leak out through the crack in the mirror. It was that terrible ice cold light of Lucifer’s grace that had excruciatingly invaded every particle of his soul in The Cage. Sam could not stay in that room for one second longer. He bolted out into the car park but Crowley had gone. He didn’t know how he had put the keys in the ignition and driven the Impala away, but he had done it and now he was eating up the road, as he put as much distance as possible in between himself and the motel.

Finally Sam was forced to stop. His eyes were closing and he had veered into oncoming traffic. He pulled into a rest stop, climbed over the seats and hunched up in the back seat to try and get some rest. But sleep would not come now that he had stopped driving. He needed help but there was no one to help him.

Sam had never felt so alone. The weight of his loneliness was crushing him. He could feel the burn of unwelcome tears as he pressed his eyes closed tightly to stop himself from descending into some kind of blubbering girl. Dean would have called him Princess and Francis and made a smart remark just about now. But Dean was gone and that aching empty void in Sam’s heart was too painful to poke at. There was no Dean, no Castiel, and no Bobby. He mentally went through a list of too many people who would have been there to help him if only they were still around; Ellen, Jo, Pamela, Rufus, Frank, Ash, Pastor Jim, Dad. He could even start a list of absent angels and demons. He recalled with embarrassment his naive and desperate attachment to Ruby, when Dean had been in Hell.

Was there anyone who could help him?

Crowley had vamoosed on him at the motel and working with Meg to guard Castiel had all been Dean’s idea, and one he was not about to entertain. He wondered about searching out some of the people he knew from years back but anyone he knew from before the breaking of the seals might be revealed to have been one of the demons who had directed and steered his life from infancy. He could summon someone. He could summon Crowley but he figured Crowley would turn up and help, only if and when the demon wanted to and if it turned out to be of benefit to Crowley. 

He could try praying. Amused at the idea of prayer actually working when God had so obviously abandoned him to his fate, Sam sat upright in the back seat and said, “Dear God, I could really use a little divine or even angelic intervention right about now”. 

He shook his head and ran his hand through his hair. He felt like a dork. Still he had started this prayer so he might as well finish asking. “Mmm, ahem, so if you could see your way to actually getting your finger out and doing something to help me this one time, I would really fucking appreciate it!” 

That hadn’t come out as he had intended. He listened for a rush of angelic wings. Nothing happened. Frankly Sam would have been surprised if anything had happened. Dean was the one with the phoneline to heaven and beyond. Supernatural beings came when Dean called them. Castiel came if it was Dean calling. Even Death came when Dean asked him. Sam swallowed, a bitter taste of bile in his mouth, as he felt his anger rising. He was filled with the bitter injustice of his whole life, from even before he was born when his mother sold him for a deal, and the consequences of her death which robbed him and his brother of a normal upbringing. 

Lucifer had offered Sam an explanation for his life, that Sam had been created for him. Sam cringed at the thought that his very existence was ordained by God or by Fate just to be Lucifer’s possession, his vessel. Sam had left The Cage and his madness behind him, so how could Lucifer’s grace be seeking him? Sam recalled the speech that Lucifer had used repeatedly as he spooned him tightly and whispered in his ear:

_“Sam, you are my vessel, created for me, your soul and my grace fit together perfectly. You are my miracle and my completion. You lie and you betray, just as our names are The Great Betrayer and the Father of Lies, but I forgive you your betrayal and, know this my Sam, I will never lie to you and never leave you”._

These speeches had not stopped Lucifer from amusing himself with Sam but impossible as it seemed it was worse in The Cage when Lucifer withdrew from Sam and then the icy grace left him and the flames rose and Sam’s soul burned an eternity in every moment.


	4. Researching The Devil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for Non-con Samifer
> 
> .

Crowley’s Office:

 

The figure of a white haired and bearded elderly man stood tall and proud inside the binding circle of holy fire in the middle of Crowley’s office. 

The man intoned “I am the keeper of the Akashic Records. You cannot keep me here Crariel.”

Crowley responded; “I don’t know about that, the circle seems to be holding just fine to me, and the name is Crowley now”.

The keeper frowned asking, “What do you want with me?”

Crowley smiled, “To make a deal, of course.”

“Why would I make a deal with you?”

“I will let you out of that circle and back to your precious records, if you give me a piece of information from one of the souls’ histories” Crowley offered, spreading his hands open to show how reasonable his request was.

The keeper looked puzzled and replied, “But Crariel, the Hall of Records is open to all, you can come and look up anything you need, the history of every soul in creation is available.”

Crowley’s mood darkened “Don’t jerk with me, Keeper, if your records are completely open then why have you hidden the record I am seeking?”

“No records are hidden” The keeper sighed, “ But I can see you do not believe me, so I will recite you the information you require and you can let me go.”

“Sam Winchester...” Crowley began, only to be interrupted by a dry cackle of laughter from the Keeper.

“What is so funny?” Crowley demanded.

“He doesn’t have a record” The Keeper revealed, “You picked the one soul in all creation that does not have a record”.

Crowley was stunned. He knew that was an impossibility, because every soul, every angel, every demon, every monster in the pit had an akashic record of the history of their existence. Crowley needed an answer to this anomaly. There was a deputation of demons waiting outside his office for answers. In fact there were even rumours of a coup, if he couldn’t produce a way to deal with the plume of ice cold steam which was rising from the depths of Hell and spreading disruption and unrest among his subjects.

Crowley turned back towards The Keeper. “But Sam Winchester’s deeds must be recorded somewhere. That is the natural order.”

The keeper’s eyes narrowed, “It is a secret”.

Crowley was losing his temper. “Well you had bloody well better reveal this secret to me, or you will be here for eternity.”

The Keeper spoke. “The akashic record of Sam Winchester is contained within the record of Samael also known as Lucifer The Morningstar ”.

Crowley hadn’t thought he could be stunned twice in as few minutes.

“What does that mean?” He demanded from The Keeper.

“I am not privy to the meaning of this, only to the facts”.

“I still need the information. Can you access... “Crowley hesitated to say His name, in case it might direct the venting steam in his direction.

“...Lucifer’s record?” The Keeper finished for Crowley, “I have told you that all records are open.”

“I need to know if Lucifer did anything to Sam in The Cage, which would have broken him and made Sam a means of escape for Lucifer”.

The Keeper shook his head slowly, looking at Crowley as if he was the class dunce, “You do realise that firstly The Cage was not re-sealed when the archangels and their vessels entered it. No-one locked the remaining seals. No-one created 66 new ones to replace the ones that had been broken. Secondly, Sam Winchester broke the 66th Seal, setting Lucifer free. It is written that he is Lucifer’s Means of Escape. However I believe I know the record you are looking for.”

The Keeper’s eyes rolled back in his head as he searched for the information, and then he began to recite.....

_The Cage, Year 12, Day 301._

_Sam was burning. Lucifer had left to check on what Michael and Adam were doing in their tropical oasis. As Lucifer returned he could see that this time all of Sam’s skin had burned away. He moved closer to Sam using his chilling grace to douse the flames._  
  
“Is this the information you are seeking?” asked The Keeper.

“Get on with it.” Crowley barked. He was feeling rather nauseous.

_Lucifer approached Sam and touched his forehead making him whole again. Sam’s soul collapsed into Lucifer’s arms._

_‘I apologise, Sam’ Lucifer whispered, ‘Michael delayed me with his whining and complaining.’_

_Sam forced out one word, ‘Adam?’_

_‘Fine’ Lucifer responded, ‘You know he never asks about you? Blames you for his imprisonment here with my humourless brother.’_

_Sam’s shoulders dropped with the weight of his regret at the consequences of his actions on his younger half-brother._

_‘Come here’ said Lucifer as the bed appeared next to him, ‘I missed you’._

_‘No.’_

_‘Come here Sam’. This time it was an order._

_‘Don’t wanna’ Sam mumbled._

_‘But I know that you do want to. Deep down you want me. You want me to hold you and wrap my grace inside you and keep you safe from the flames.’_

_‘Please’ Sam pleaded._

_‘Please what?’ said Lucifer, pulling Sam with him and forcing him to kneel with his face planted on to the bed._

_‘Please don’t, Lucifer’ Sam pleaded again._

_‘I’ll change my appearance for you Sammy,’ Lucifer offered, ‘Who would you like me to be today? Jessica? Ruby? Daddy? Dean?’_

_‘No’ Sam cried out, ‘Nick, please, always Nick, please as Nick’._

_‘OK, Bunk Buddy’ Lucifer smiled and started to work his way down Sam’s spine with his forked tongue. Then Lucifer stared to flick his tongue against Sam’s ass. Sam’s hands clenched the sheets and he dug his face further into the bedclothes._

_‘No no, my Sam, No hiding this time’ as Lucifer caught Sam’s hair with his left hand pulling his head up and arching Sam’s back, while using the fingers of his right hand to slot painfully into Sam’s tight ass. Sam started to quiver, every part of him icy and now aroused._

_Lucifer kept moving his fingers in and out until he could see Sam’s cock begin to harden._

_‘That’s it Sammy, Let go, Enjoy yourself’_

_‘No’ Sam managed to utter through gritted teeth._

_‘Yes’ Lucifer demanded. ‘Let go Sam. Let go and we can move on to the spooning and the safety of your soul and my grace in harmony. Come on Sam, you know this is how we get to that place, Let go.’_

_Lucifer pressed his cock into Sam and as Sam stifled a scream, Lucifer began to rock him back and forth as he pressed deeper and deeper into Sam._

_Sam’s cock betrayed him again as it had so many times before and he came all over the bed. At the same time Lucifer made a primeval noise of triumph, as he came inside Sam. Momentarily Sam was blinded as Lucifer’s grace exploded outwards and Lucifer’s wings extended fully, only to wrap themselves around Sam as they crumpled onto the bed._

_‘I wish you would let go’ Lucifer said to Sam’s back as he lay pressed up against him, wings still holding his vessel securely. ‘It would be much more pleasurable for you and we would still end up here in our safe place.’_

_Sam felt safe. All of his anger and his pain was gone. He felt whole and calm in Lucifer’s wings with Lucifer’s grace lingering inside him. It was no different to all the other occasions when he lay there violated and aching, while at the same time satisfied, calm and cherished, but this time something inside him released. This time Sam whispered a response. ‘I’ll let go’._

“Well?” The Keeper asked, “Is that what you wanted and can I go?”

Crowley considered what he had learned, suppressing an urge to vomit up his whiskey. All that he had learned was that Lucifer had broken Sam, something he had already suspected from the nature of Sam’s crazies, after he had gotten his soul back.

“I need another extract.” Crowley told The Keeper.

“That was not our deal”

“Well mate we never kissed on it, and I lied” Crowley smiled, “Just one more, I need to know what happened when Sam’s soul was freed”.

The Keeper nodded and began.

_The Cage, Year 181, day 45_

Crowley gasped, he hadn’t thought about how long Lucifer and Sam had been locked away together.

“Do you want me to continue?” asked The Keeper.

Crowley nodded.

_A tremor shook The Cage. Lucifer looked up. Something was trying to get in. The last time this happened was in the days after they had arrived back in The Cage. Then it had been his demented little brother Castiel, high on power, righteous in his attempt to take Sam away. Castiel had ripped Sam apart, pulling his body back to earth, leaving behind Sam’s soul which was moulded into Lucifer’s grace._

_A crack was appearing at the top of The Cage. Lucifer wondered if Michael could sense this breach from his far corner. However Lucifer could not worry about Michael now. He shook Sam awake._

_‘Hold on to me Sam’_

_‘What’ said Sam sleepily, ‘you wanna be held, Luce?’_

_‘No dumbass’ Lucifer urged, ‘Cling to me.’_

_Sam turned in the bed so that he was facing Lucifer and held him tightly, burying his head in Nick’s old olive green t-shirt._

_Lucifer wrapped his wings around Sam, hiding him._

_Death appeared in front of them and pronounced, ‘I have come for Sam, Lucifer.’_

_‘You cannot have him.’ Lucifer’s voice dripped with icy venom. ‘If his body has died, then his soul remains here, with me. This is where his soul is meant to be, with me.’_

_‘He is not dead’ Death admitted. ‘I have come to take the soul back to the body.’_

_‘You cannot and will not force me to give you a part of myself,’ Lucifer raged, ‘Re-uniting Sam’s soul and body will destroy him and I will not let you harm my vessel.’_

_Death replied, ‘Lucifer, I do not know if this will destroy him but I will take steps to prevent it. I will erect a wall in Sam’s mind, so that he will not remember any of his time here. Now Lucifer, I demand you hand him over to me.’_

_‘Sam doesn’t want to go’ Lucifer argued. ‘Why are you doing this?’_

_‘Dean has made a deal with me’._

_Death’s words stirred something in Sam. Sam’s hands loosened on Lucifer’s t-shirt and he inched his head up from Lucifer’s chest. ‘Dean?’ he asked._

_‘Yes’ Death said wryly. ‘Your brother wants you back and I am to bring you to him’._

_Sam spluttered, ‘Can’t. I can’t face him after. Can’t tell him. Can’t explain to Dean what happened.’_

_‘Shush, Sam, you won’t remember’ Death promised. ‘As long as you don’t poke at the wall, you will never remember your years here with the Devil, or the ice, or the flames. By the way it is toasty down here isn’t it?’_

_Death’s arm extended out beyond what should have seemed possible and he scooped Sam’s soul out of Lucifer’s embrace._

_‘Sam’ Lucifer screamed after them, as Death moved upwards and away. ‘Sam, you have my Grace, we are the same, and I will not leave you’._

_Then they were gone but the slightest hairline trace of a crack remained in the outer edge of The Cage._

Crowley snapped his fingers. The holy fire died and The Keeper vanished. He walked towards the door, trying to decide what to tell the demonic committee outside, and if to reveal that part of Lucifer was already free of The Cage and inside Sam Winchester.

He heard the leather of his desk chair creak and then a slow clapping. He spun around to see Sam Winchester leaning back in his chair, smiling at him, dressed all in white. Then Crowley realised that this was not Sam.

“Oh Fuck, sorry, I am, your majesty, I was, I, Lucifer...”

“Stop talking, Crariel, and listen”, Lucifer ordered with Sam’s voice, “I do not inhabit my vessel, this is my chosen mask. I am impressed.”

Crowley’s eyebrows raised. They were the only parts of him capable of movement as he was rooted to the spot, and wishing he was anywhere else in the universe, hopefully he would wake up from this nightmare in the backroom of a antiquarian bookshop in Soho.

“Crariel attention please. The queuing. Very efficient. However you need to stop calling yourself King of Hell”.

“Yes, my Lord” Crowley agreed quickly, he didn’t dare ask Lucifer not to use his angelic name.

“Quiet”, Lucifer ordered, “I have no interest in the day to day running of Hell, and my Sam has no desire to take up his role as King. So I appoint you, Crariel, as my regent. But Crariel this is the only warning you are getting, no more poking around in our akashic record, and absolutely no contact with purgatory, you understand?”

“Yes my Lord”

“Good”, Lucifer smiled, “I will be watching you. Now excuse me I have a reunion to organise”.

 

___________________________________________

PURGATORY:

Dean and Castiel were wedged together back to back, hunkering down in the hollow of a dead tree. Dean was in a light sleep but Castiel was watchful, constantly searching for movement or the glow of monster eyes. They had moved through purgatory since they had been sucked in months ago. They were always searching for an exit and always in danger. They fought monsters, some of whom Dean had sent there. Those were the nastiest ones, the ones with a grudge against Dean. So far they had avoided any alpha monsters, which would have dangerous grudges against Castiel. 

Castiel knew that there were at least two confirmed doors out of purgatory; one to Heaven and one to Hell, but he did not believe that there was an exit to Earth, unless someone opened one on the other side. In the early days Dean had refused to move far from where they had arrived, convinced that Sam would open a door in that area, but the terrain was too open there and it was too populated to be safe. So they had journeyed. As they travelled Castiel felt more and more like his old self, like he had been before he fell, before he had made the deal with Crowley. He also felt more protective of Dean. He had an angel’s limited emotional range but Dean broke through this and he wanted to keep him safe from everything there and find a way out for them both.

“Penny for them?” Dean asked.

“Dean,” Castiel replied confused, “There is no currency here”.

Dean laughed, and Castiel felt good at that sound. 

They heard a twig snap and leaped to their feet, alert and in fight mode.

“Dean?” said a woman’s voice. Leonore stepped out from behind a tree. The vampire was unarmed and held her hands out in front of her as she walked towards them in a hesitant manner, her long hair falling over her eyes. “I am not here to attack. I have come to return a favour”.  
Dean moved closer to her, his knife in his hand, “Right, sister, as if I am going to fall for that.”

“Wait Dean, I owe you for releasing me from Eve’s powers and now I can pay my debt”

“How do you propose to accomplish this?” Castiel asked.

Leonore pointed north-west to the horizon behind Castiel. “There,” she said, “in the distance is The View of Hell”. 

Castiel’s head tilted in interest. If Hell was in that direction then the door into Hell could be there too.

“So fricking what? Why would I care what is happening in Hell? I have no freaking desire every to set eyes on the place again.” Dean ranted.

“Have you not seen what is happening?” Leonore beckoned them to follow her. The climbed up a rocky slope to a ridge of slate coloured rock. When they got to the top, they could see the sky burning to the north-west. It looked like the most fantastic Montana sunset in Fall, with the smoke from a distant forest fire lying across the sky like clouds. They could see that in the centre of the blazing sky there was a rising geyser of steam.

“I see” said Castiel.

“What Cas? What is that? Has Crowley started to redecorate Hell with fountains?” Dean joked but he was worried at Cas’s expression.

“No Dean” Castiel said gravely, “That is Lucifer’s grace escaping from The Cage.”

“Sam!” Dean cried, unable to keep a tone of desperation out of his voice. “ Cas, we have to get out of here. We have to get back to Sam. Where to you think that douche bag is going to go first? Sam is in danger; we have to find a way out”.

_______________________________________

NEW MEXICO:

Sam pulled the Impala up at the entrance way of a pecan nut farm. There was a stall at the gate selling pecans in white paper bags to passing motorists. He bought a $2 bag and leant against the warm door of the Impala to enjoy them. He heard someone approach the car from the other side and heard a man say “Help, you need to help me, Sam”.

Sam turned around and dropped the bag to the ground and then dropped to his knees. It was Lucifer, using Nick as his vessel, solid and real. 

“Did you miss me, Sam?”

Sam couldn’t speak. His vocal cords wouldn’t obey him. Adrenalin coursed through his veins urging him to run but he was frozen, like road kill waiting for the headlamps to approach. 

Lucifer was smiling at him as if he thought Sam would be pleased to see him. “I have responded to your call.”

“My call?” Sam managed to say.

Lucifer walked up to Sam, invading his personal space, and pressed his hand over Sam’s heart. “From here, Sam, I felt it, the loneliness, and the ache. It called to my grace and I have come”. 

Lucifer’s lips gently caressed the top of Sam’s forehead and he took Sam’s hands in his and lifted him off his knees to stand upright.

“Remember everything” Lucifer pronounced as he touched Sam’s temples with his fingertips.

Sam’s eyes dilated and he put his hand to his chest as the remaining memories of The Cage were retrieved.

“I didn’t” he spluttered, “We weren’t. I couldn’t have.”

“We did, we were, and we are.” Lucifer responded. “I look like this because this is your favourite appearance for us, but it takes force of will to maintain this vessel. We would be much more comfortable if I could use my true vessel.”

“No,” Sam declared with as much conviction as he could, “I will not consent; you cannot use me as your vessel”.

Lucifer looked hurt. “Sam, I don’t need your permission to re-enter. You only needed to consent once. You already said yes in Detroit. I don’t need another yes. But I will not force you. I will convince you that it is necessary at times, but if you truly want to be separate I will respect that, as long as you let me use your body if and when I need it.”

Lucifer moved closer to him as Sam tried to process what he had just said. Then Lucifer was holding him and he felt the briefest touch of Lucifer’s feathers, and a peace came over him, he felt spaced out, drunk. Lucifer was manoeuvring him over to the passenger side and then sitting him into the passenger seat. Lucifer darted around to the driver’s side and slid into the driver’s seat. 

“Give me the keys Sam, I am driving” Lucifer demanded, in his I-am-giving-an-order voice that Sam remembered so well.

Sam silently handed over the keys. He stared out the passenger window as they left New Mexico behind.

Three hours later, Sam asked, “Where are we going? And how come you are driving?”

“He speaks.” Lucifer mocked, but then looking at Sam’s worried face, he relented and added “Ah Sam, smile, I am only ribbing you. I know you need time to process everything. That is why I am driving, and we are travelling by motor vehicle because I know you would not want to leave the car behind.”

“Dean wouldn’t like it” Sam muttered.

“What leaving his baby car in New Mexico or me driving it? I suppose he wouldn’t. We are going to Los Angeles. We have a demon problem that needs taking care of, and I need you to help me out.”

Sam looked down at Lucifer’s hand which had been almost continuously resting on his thigh. Lucifer had barely stopped touching him since he appeared, almost as if he was making sure that Sam was real.

“How?” Sam asked.

“I need you to be my vessel. Wait don’t panic. I know this is all happening too fast but I only need to use you briefly, so that I can enter their lair unnoticed. They will let you in. But Sam you will be in control for most of the time and I will hang back in the recesses of your soul and mind. Then just hand me the reins for a little while and problem solved. I promise you on our bond that as soon as I have taken care of them I will cede control back to you and re-inhabit Nick.”


	5. On the move

Sam had a whopping migraine. 

The pain was blinding him accompanied by lights flashing inside his head. He tried tilting his head to rest against the passenger door window but the engine vibrations only made the pain worse and now he felt like he was going to hurl. He ground his teeth together in an effort not to lose control. Closing his eyes, he lifted his hand to his forehead. Then he felt his hand being pushed down and the back of Lucifer’s cold right hand replaced his own. He kept his eyes shut and held his breath.

“Fuck it, Sam. You are burning up. Your body is going into psychosomatic shock. When was the last time you ate anything, excluding those pecans you were munching when I found you?”

“Wednesday” Speaking hurt Sam’s head. He couldn’t do this. 

It was impossible that Lucifer was sitting next to him, wrapping his chilly fingers into Sam’s and squeezing his hand to reassure Sam that it would be OK. Sam wanted to get out of the car and run, but he couldn’t bear to move his head an inch. His memories of The Cage had returned when the Wall had come down, but they were jagged and fragmented. He had remembered the flames, the torture and the rape. 

When he was hallucinating Lucifer, Lucifer would mention the spooning, and Sam had briefly touched memories of peace and Grace, but he had been unable to believe that any there had been any moments of pleasure or happiness in the box, and took these thoughts as sure evidence of his own lunacy. Now he knew that those had been real memories and he didn’t know what to do with that information. 

He had burned when Lucifer left his side and had felt complete when Lucifer was with him. Lucifer had demanded things from him that Sam had not wanted to give but Lucifer had taken them anyway. He had treated Sam as his possession, his toy to torture mercilessly during the first dozen years in The Cage, but once Sam had surrendered, everything changed. 

Sam didn’t know what he was meant to do with memories of a century and a half being submissive in a relationship, where he had felt instances of ecstasy and joy, and until Death came for him he had been willing to spend eternity in Lucifer’s grace. The pain in his head felt like his brain was being forced out the back of his skull. A groan escaped his lips.

“Enough” Lucifer swerved the car to a halt, pulled Sam’s face towards his and leaned across to kiss Sam’s lips. “Sleep Sam” he ordered.

Sam slept.

________________________________

 

Sam woke alone in a motel car park. It was dark and the parking area was surrounded with small wooden alpine style chalets. There was something warm on his lap. He looked down at a mega sized bucket of southern fried chicken. His headache was gone but he felt spaced out, like he had taken too many prescription painkillers after a hunting injury. 

What had Lucifer done to him with that kiss? Sam realised that he had let Lucifer kiss him without even protesting. He granted himself that he had being in the eye of the mother of all migraines at the time, but the kiss had not felt wrong, in fact it had felt normal, habitual and right. Sam wondered why his reactions to Lucifer were so way off. He wondered who he even was anymore. Sam Winchester, hunter, killing things, saving people, strong, straight? Sammy, Dean’s little brother, grieving for Dean, lonely and feeling every bit the freak as he had all his life? Sam, Lucifer’s bitch? Maybe Sam, Lucifer’s lover? 

There was a tap on the window. Sam cracked the door open.

“Come on partner, we are all checked in. Get your stuff and follow me. I’ll take the chicken” Lucifer leant in and removed the chicken from Sam’s lap.

As Sam got out of the car his curiosity got the better of him, “What name did you check in under?”

“Luke Morningstar.”

“You know you shouldn’t use your real name?”

“Luke is not my name. I know that no one is looking for me, they think I am still in The Cage.”

“No one knows you are out?” Sam asked as he followed Lucifer towards the small far off cabin.

“Crariel knows because I called in on him on my way up. I made him Regent of Hell.” Lucifer explained, balancing the bucket on his hip as he unlocked the cabin door.

“Crowley is not going to be pleased about that”

Lucifer laughed and clapped Sam on the back as he shoved him playfully into the room ahead of him. “Hilarious, I will explain Crariel to you later. Now eat something” he ordered as they sat down at a small round wooden table.

“Stop with the orders”, Sam requested, looking at Lucifer out of the corner of his eye to gauge his reaction to Sam answering back.

“Sam, you need to eat, please eat. Look it is warm carbohydrate and oil coated bird parts, which I am sure you will find very tasty”. Lucifer took a piece and popped it in his mouth and immediately spat it out with such force that it bounced off the table. “Uggh, ugh, disgusting, what was that?”

Sam realised that the laughter he could hear was coming from his own mouth as he watched Luce wiping his forked tongue with a napkin, trying to get rid of the taste.

“Here,” Sam passed him a flask of whiskey, “Get rid of it with this. It was leviathan engineered corn syrup. It is not being produced anymore but the food on the market is full of it.”

“I always hated those leviathan. Hating them was never considered disobedience.” Lucifer said bitterly, shaking his head.”Sam, I am going to get us some real food”.

“You are? You are confident that I will still be here when you get back?”

Lucifer ignored Sam’s question. “Sam you are all sweaty and you need to change out of those clothes. Please shower while I am gone.”

“More instructions”, Sam sighed, “Ok, ok, I admit that I need to shower”.

Lucifer disappeared.

Sam got up and dumped the chicken in the trash. He walked to the shower removing his clothes as he went and dropping them on the floor. He was sweaty and hot. The air-con in the cabin was piss poor. He hated that Luce was right. Then he realised that he was thinking of Lucifer as Luce. He needed the shower to clear his head. He grabbed his shampoo from his bag and turned on the water. Then he realised that he had never salted the room. He slammed his forehead with his hand. How could he have forgotten something so basic, that he had been doing since he was old enough to walk and hold a box of salt? Could it be because he did feel safe with Lucifer? 

Once the doors and windows were salted, he ducked into the shower and let the cool water run all over him. As he washed his hair he wondered if he should make good on his words and run while Lucifer was missing. He decided that it would be a pointless exercise, because if he could be found on the side of a dirt road in nowhere, New Mexico, he could be found anywhere.

“Ciao Bello” Lucifer called from the bedroom in a sing song voice, “Mangiamo, Presto!”

“I don’t speak Italian”, Sam called back, “and don’t come in here”. He jumped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his middle. He hadn’t thought to bring a change of clothes in with him. He was too used to travelling with Dean. 

Sam emerged to the smell of warm bread and melted cheese. There were two giant thin crust margarita pizzas and a bottle of prosecco on the table. Lucifer was beaming at him, obviously very pleased with himself. 

“I got them in this extraordinary little place in the back streets of Napoli. I love Naples. It is my kind of town. Do you know that some kid tried to pick-pocket me as I queued for the pizzas?”

“What did you do to the kid?” Sam was smiling in spite of himself, and he had to admit that the pizza was the best.

“Nothing, Sam, I know you would not have liked me to administer retribution.” Lucifer shrugged, “I just stuck my tongue out at him and he fled reciting the rosary. It was hilarious.”

Sam laughed, he wondered if ‘hilarious’ was Luce’s current favourite word. He felt alright. The food was helping and he felt better now that Lucifer was back. Sam took a sip of the prosecco. It was amazing. He had never tasted anything like it.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“Sam, you were the one who made me drink whiskey.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes. Then Lucifer stared at Sam. “Sam, I know you don’t want me telling you what to do, but I think you should put on a vest or something. Your beautiful body is distracting me and we need to talk about what we do when we get to Los Angeles”.

Sam nodded.

He returned to the table in his night sweats. He sat down and looked directly at Lucifer saying, “I need you to be serious for a minute Luce, I have a request. No sex. Please”. Sam’s mouth was parched, he held his breath. It was Lucifer’s turn to nod, but then he reached over and covered Sam’s hands with his own. 

“I have a request too. You are still running hot. Let me hold you, like we used to do. Let my grace cool you. But I agree, for tonight, no sex.”

Sam didn’t know what to say but he nodded and let Lucifer guide him by the hand to the bed.

_______________________________________

 

Sam was floating, bathed in light; there was no pain, no anger, and no sorrow. He became aware that the light was Lucifer’s grace. The grace was infusing him. It was knitting together all the frayed and broken parts of him, and it was seeping into his soul. It felt like it belonged there, as if Lucifer’s grace was a part of him that had been missing but he hadn’t known it. He was waking up, becoming aware of his surroundings. The room was bathed in morning sunlight. He felt Lucifer’s body pressed into his back with an arm draped across Sam’s middle. 

“Awake?” Lucifer asked, reaching up to stroke Sam’s neck. Sam sat up.

“That was a bit too intimate for first thing in the morning” he complained. “But I have been doing it all night” Lucifer grinned at him.

Sam headed to the bathroom and when he emerged, Lucifer was sitting on the windowsill. “Mind the salt line” Sam warned.

“What do you want for breakfast? Scottish crumpets? French omelette? Irish soda bread? Auzzie smoothies? Swiss muesli, which would be in keeping with our motel?”

Sam sniggered, “Are we eating food of the world now? Smoothies”.

Sam had dressed and packed up by the time Lucifer returned with 2 large glasses of orange juice. He handed one to Sam saying “Sorry sweetcheeks, Australia was closed. Timezones, you know. This is Spanish orange juice. I squeezed it myself. Now drink up, we have to go”.

“More orders!” Sam complained but he drank the juice and headed out.

___________________________________

 

Sam was driving. Being the driver was preferable. Lucifer was typing a very long number into a smart phone. Sam wondered where the phone had appeared from and who Lucifer could possibly be phoning.

“Put Crowley on the phone.... no I will not tell you who is calling... I will not wait... Now!.... Crariel?... Stop fawning, why have you lackeys answering your phone?... Stop talking Crariel; I don’t care what is happening in the queue. I told you Sam and I do not want to run Hell. I want to know if there is any change in the intelligence about the coup... if more demons are hiding from you then they may be considering changing sides. We will deal with it... No not you and I, me and Sam... Crariel you always were a devious angel, Gabriel’s pet. You better not be sneaking on me or your fate will be his.” Lucifer hit end call.

Sam was shaking his head. “Is Crowley the same being as Crariel?”

“Of course, you don’t think that an ordinary demon would have the power to become virtual King in Hell. Crariel fell. He was a surprise addition to the group who fell with me. I had always thought he was Gabriel’s pet. He was tricky like Gabe, but sly and sneaky. He thinks I don’t know that he has been carrying on with an angel, Azirafel, for the last few thousand years. It amuses him to use the name Crowley and make other demons believe he was once a human. He set himself up as King of Hell while my back was turned, but I have to admit that he is making a good job of it, and I have let him stay as regent. However there is a discontented minority. They don’t like the way that Crariel is running things, they want to run amok up here, and ironically, they want to release me. So we are going to deal with them before they start their coup, as I will not tolerate a civil war in Hell. Now turn up that song, I need a music break”.

Sam turned up the volume. He didn’t recall this tune being in the tape box. He pulled the cassette out of the deck. It read ‘Ramones’ in Dean’s handwriting. He put it back in, and a woman was singing about shaking out the devil off your back. It was very good. Sam looked quizzically at Lucifer.

“It is a phenomenon. Music warps around me. I believe this one is now INXS, The Devil Inside, and that Zeppelin one is now Marilyn Manson, Van Halen are Muse’s Absolution and AC/DC is now My Chemical Romance, but the Metallica one, and Queen’s Greatest Hits are unchanged. The one on now is Florence, I thought you would like this one, I think it is time for lunch”.

“Luce, we are in the middle of the desert and it is only midday” said Sam tapping his hand on the wheel in time to the music.

“We only had juice for breakfast, and you need to start eating properly. The car will be safe up here behind that road sign. Pull in”

Sam pulled over, carefully parking the Impala so it could not be seen by vehicles travelling in either direction. “Are we doing take-outs of the world again?” he asked.

“Hold your breath and close your eyes”. Lucifer touched Sam’s shoulder.

They were in a bright modern building which had the feel of a museum or gallery. Sam felt queasy. “Apologies, I had to move us in time as well as space, timezones are a bitch”.

“Where are we?”

“Top floor restaurant, Tate modern, Southbank, London. Look out the windows, Sam.”

There was London. They were in England. They were not in America. There were people speaking in British accents all around him. Lucifer linked his arm and moved them through a glass door.

“Good afternoon, sir, do you have a reservation?”

Lucifer smiled at the young blond waitress, “Yes, party of two, Morningstar, I have reserved a table with a view of St Paul’s”.

“Follow me, please”

They walked after her with Sam looking out the windows on both sides of the restaurant, taking in the view of London. 

“After lunch, I want to show you the Rothko room downstairs,” Lucifer was saying as they reached the table.

“Would you or your husband like to see a wine list?” the waitress asked Lucifer, handing them menus.

Sam’s mouth dropped open. After she moved away he leaned forward and whispered furiously “Why does she think we are married?”

Lucifer was laughing at his joke. “Well gay marriage is legal here and I might have said it was our anniversary when I booked this table”. 

“Stop teasing or I will refuse to enjoy this ‘date’”.

Lucifer licked the inside of his top lip at Sam.

“Stop with the tongue. Someone will see it. Can’t you make it look normal?”

“But Sam you worry-wart, you like my tongue.”

Lucifer put his menu in front of his face, but Sam just knew that he was sticking his tongue out behind it.

Their waitress had returned. “Are you ready to order?” 

“Yes” replied Lucifer, “Can I ask if the maple syrup on the Caesar Salad bacon bits is Canadian or American?”

Sam began a frantic first read of the menu, while their waitress checked on the origin of the maple syrup.

“Canadian, sir”.

“That is good. We are not eating American,” Lucifer smirked. “I will have the Angus steak and freshly cut chips. Steak bloody.”

“I will have the Chicken Caesar salad”, Sam added.

“Any drinks?”

Lucifer jumped in before Sam “I will have a glass of the Pinotage. Sam will have a mineral water. He is driving.”

Once the waitress left them, Sam asked, “So, the plan?”

“Short version, because I want to enjoy my lunch. Some of the demons involved in the coup plot are known to you.”

“They know me?”

“No Sam, all demons know you, even if they don’t admit it to you.” Lucifer explained patiently. “There are demons there that you know. One you call Meg. There is a young demon, who you knew as a human. She only died a few years ago here, but you know how time passes in Hell. She has had plenty of time to turn demon. There are a few more, which were exorcised by you, when you were learning your demon blood skills. They are laying low but that many demons using a warehouse in LA as their base is causing some small weather omens and reports of sulphuric gases from the sewers. So it is plausible that a hunter of your talents would find them. So you need to go in there in the middle of the day, in research mode, either unarmed or only lightly tooled up. I will stay back in your unconscious. They will capture you. I know they won’t kill you immediately because you are too valuable. You might be of value to Crowley, and they suspect you might be useful in freeing me, and they want to get some revenge on you too. Once the main players are in attendance, you will take the back seat and ...” Lucifer snapped his fingers. 

He cut a piece of steak and ate it while Sam sat thinking about what Lucifer was proposing.

“I have a few questions?”

Lucifer nodded his assent.

“If I let you in, do you promise to leave as soon as we are out of the warehouse?”

“If you agree, I promise that as soon as we are safely back at our hotel, I will separate from you. I never lie to you, so I can’t promise to do it as soon as we are out of the warehouse, in case they move us while they think they have caught Sam Winchester.”

“Won’t they know I am different? Especially Meg.”

“No, trust me Sam, they won’t know we are joined until I reveal myself”.

“Do I have to drink demon blood?”

“Do you want to drink demon blood?”

“No freaking way” Sam said vehemently.

“Well don’t then. We don’t need that crutch after all this time.”

“Do you want something from me in return for giving my body back?”

“There is something I would like. Not the wicked thoughts you are just having, although I want that too. I would like us to get a white suit. I want you to get a bespoke tailor-made suit in white, with a white shirt and white silk tie. I want to you to let me wear it when I am contained in you, my vessel.” Lucifer said the words my vessel, like someone would say my love.

Sam didn’t see what harm a suit would do, and he wasn’t planning to give Lucifer many opportunities to wear the suit.

“OK” said Sam.

“OK to what?” Lucifer asked sipping at his wine.

“OK to the plan, but I still am not very happy about you wearing me as a meatsuit, and OK to the suit. All hail the Suit if it is the carrot that gets you out of me afterwards”.


	6. Diagnosis and Vengence

Sam was doing research on his laptop. He typed Stockholm Syndrome into the search engine and bit his lower lip as he hit enter.

He was on his own. Before he had vanished, Lucifer had said something about cooking an authentic Kerala Curry from scratch.

The laptop looked out of place with its chipped and battered casing as it sat on the gleaming black glass table in their suite at the Los Angeles Plaza Hotel. The room was a statement in minimalist chic with glass furniture, leather sofa, the largest bed Sam had ever seen, and vast plate glass windows with a panoramic view of the city of angels. Despite Sam’s urging to use an alias, Lucifer had amused himself by checking in using a platinum credit card in the name L Morningstar drawn on the Vatican Bank. 

Sam looked at the search results. He decided to begin with the medical dictionary sites. He paused a moment before clicking on the first one. He remembered all the times he had sat at a table in a crappy motel doing research on his computer while Dean cleaned their weapons. He should be researching how to get Dean out of purgatory or where the last of the leviathan were. He should not be following Lucifer around like a sick love puppy and agreeing to let his body be used as Satan’s meatsuit.

There must be something very wrong with him mentally. He was an intelligent guy, had gone to Stanford on a scholarship. Stockholm syndrome was his working hypothesis.

**• A condition where the abused person feels empathy and an attachment to their abuser.**

Sam grimaced. He clicked the back button to try another website.

**• The victim may display supportive behaviour, often assisting their abuser.**

Sam wondered what he had been thinking when he agreed to help Lucifer with his plan on their ‘date’ in London. Then he reflected that every time Lucifer had given him an order, told him to shower/eat/move, over the last 2 days, he had protested but then he had complied on autopilot every time. Sam pressed his thumb into the old scar on his palm, but it was only a reflex action and of no help to him now.

**• Inability to act when an escape or a rescue seems possible**

Sam needed a drink. He could not let himself think about how he had clung to Lucifer like a baby when Death had come to take him back to Dean. He pushed himself up from the table and went to the mini-bar. He grabbed all the little bottles it contained and brought them back to the table. He methodically lined them up next to the laptop, opened the vodka and swallowed it in one shot.

**• The victim gives credit to the perpetrator when there is an absence of abuse and perceives gestures of normality as acts of kindness.**

Sam remembered feeling joy whenever Lucifer agreed to postpone one of his spying trips to Michael. His gratitude at not being left to burn was now making him feel ill. He knocked back the Malibu. It tasted vile, so he followed it with the dark rum and the Kahula.

**• Inability to think coherent thoughts in the presence of the abductor.**

Sam was thinking clearly now but when he was in range of Lucifer’s grace, he was like a smitten teenager who could only think of their crush.

**• The abducted person is kept in isolation.**

He had never been allowed to see Adam or Michael. Lucifer had ensured that it had only been the two of them for all those years.

**• The perpetrator threatens their victim that they will never leave.**

Sam considered this carefully. Lucifer had expressed this as a term of endearment, how he would never leave Sam, but this website said that that had been a threat. Sam drank the Amaretto.

**• The abuser reveals their ‘soft side’ to their victim to match the victim’s current situation.**

They would lie together and Lucifer would stroke his hair and tell him about heaven in the early days and how he rebelled against his Father, just as Sam had rebelled against John, and about his first time in the cage, pointing out how their lives were so similar and how Sam was part of him.

**• After release the abducted person may show symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress including, nightmares, irritability, disconnection, sleeplessness, flashbacks and in extreme cases, hallucinations.**

That just about described Sam’s life after his wall crumbled. It was so accurate that Sam polished off the Irish Cream liqueur, the gin and the last little bottle which contained malt whisky. The alcohol was not working. He wasn’t going numb, instead he was getting very angry. 

The rage that had been his companion since childhood was bubbling up to the surface. He went back to the search engine to look for treatments.

**• The first steps to treat Stockholm Syndrome are; for the victim to have no contact with the abductor, then psychotherapy and sleeping medication to control their insomnia.**

As Sam pondered the unlikely chance of step one happening, he caught the aroma of curry. He tried to get his anger under control and put on a game face. Lucifer was placing a steaming copper pot on a side table. 

“Put the computer away, Sammy, time to eat.”

Then he approached Sam from behind looking over his shoulder to see what he was reading on the screen. Sam clenched his fist by his sides. His angry breath was making nostrils flare. He wanted to tell Lucifer to go fuck himself and stop ordering him around, but the fury would not let him speak. The rage was thunderous, filling his head with white noise. Lucifer was saying something but Sam could not hear him.

“Stockholm syndrome, seriously buddy?”

All of a sudden it was like a dam breaking inside him. He could feel Lucifer’s power but he owned it. He could sense a vast well of rage and power inside himself. He touched it with his mind and it tasted like demon blood: iron, copper and sulphur. He thought of the moment when Ruby had told him that had not really needed a drop of demon blood to kill Lillith. Had this been locked inside him all his life? The psychic stuff, the nightmares, the visions, the demon exorcisms, perhaps even his link to Lucifer, could it all have been contained within?

Lucifer reached out a hand to touch Sam’s shoulder. Sam batted it away and stood up towering over Lucifer. He extended his right arm and concentrated. Lucifer was thrown across the room, crashing into the far wall and damaging the plasterwork. But he didn’t fall to the ground as Sam kept him pinned. 

“Sam, you really don’t want to fight me. You won’t win.”

“Fuck you” Sam marched towards Lucifer.

“Stop Sam, I don’t want to fight you.”

“Well this time you are not getting what you want” Sam shouted as he smashed his fist into Lucifer’s jaw. Lucifer fell from where he had been held and Sam kicked his prone body. There was the sound of ribs cracking. Lucifer swung his body around taking out Sam’s legs and knocking him to the floor. While Sam was winded he climbed on top of Sam and pinned his arms down. 

“Sam, is this because of what you have been reading on the internet?”

“You gave me Stockholm Syndrome, bastard.”

“Can you hear yourself?” Lucifer said disbelievingly, “How could I give you Stockholm Syndrome? You abducted me. You threw us into The Cage. It was you, Sam.”

Sam smacked his head into Lucifer’s face and rolled away as blood dripped into his eyes. Then he was on top of Lucifer, punching and clawing at his face in turn. Sam heard the crunch of bone as he rained down blows. He couldn’t see what he was doing through his rage and the blood dripping into his eyes. Lucifer’s fist connected with Sam’s ear at the same time as his knee slammed into Sam’s groin. Sam pulled back momentarily stunned and in agony. Lucifer pushed Sam off him and asked Sam to stop.

“No, hate you!” Sam was incoherent now.

Sam used his mind to send Lucifer spinning across the floor and crashing into the leg of the table. Sam ran at him and stamped his foot into the back of Lucifer’s knee, breaking his leg. Then he was kicking him in the chest while Lucifer rolled himself into a ball to take the beating. 

“Hate you,” Sam was spluttering, “You forced me, you raped me, you played with me and left me to burn, you denied me access to Adam, you wouldn’t let me talk about Dean, you made me beg for peace and for you”. 

Tears had started to pour down Sam’s face. He spun Lucifer over so that he was on his back. Lucifer’s face was a bloody mess. Sam straddled his waist and put his thumbs onto Lucifer’s eyes. 

Pressing down with his thumbs Sam cried “You kept me in flames, not taking me with you when you left, you kept me in blinding light when you returned, light or flames for centuries. No day and no night, only fire and grace. You let me burn until my soul was shredded”.

Sam could feel Lucifer’s eyeballs being pushed back into his head. Just then Lucifer began to gently stroke Sam’s arm and Sam eased the pressure on Lucifer’s eyes. Sam rocked back to sit on Lucifer’s hips and tears poured down his face. Lucifer placed both his hands on Sam’s hips and said “It is all alright Sammy. Look I am healing already and so are you.” 

That made Sam cry harder, asking “Why? Why did you keep me in light and fire? Why did you let me burn?”

Lucifer pulled himself out from under Sam and sat next to him on the floor. He wrapped his arms around his vessel and pulled him close as Sam sobbed.

“Just stay in my embrace, Sam. Let it all out. The nature of The Cage is a box of fire. If I left you, you burned. If Michael had not been there I would have kept you in my grace at all times. I had to check on Michael. I did not keep you from Adam. Michael and Adam refused to see you. I stopped telling you about their refusals after we joined together because I could see how much pain it caused you. They blame you for their imprisonment. You were their abductor. We stopped talking about Dean for the same reason, it was too much for you. Also Sam, I didn’t stop night and day. There are no nights and no days in the box. I tried to shelter you with my wings but I know my grace is too bright.”

Sam’s anger had dissipated as his listened to Lucifer. His hands still ached and his forehead hurt from the head butt but he knew the grace was healing him. 

“Fuck” said Sam, “We look like we have been in a traffic accident”.

Lucifer carefully wiped the blood, snot and tears away from Sam’s mouth and leaned in to kiss him. Sam closed his eyes and let him do it. He could feel that tongue pressing against his teeth and opened his mouth a little to let Luce explore. Then he was kissing Luce back, biting his sexy top lip, pushing his tongue far into Lucifer’s mouth. Lucifer was unzipping Sam’s denims, and then his hand was in pulling Sam’s cock out from his boxers. 

As Sam continued to kiss, Lucifer began to stroke Sam slowly. Then Lucifer pulled away from the kiss and moved down to take Sam in his mouth. The second the forked tongue touched Sam’s penis he hardened. Sam pushed into his partner’s mouth and Lucifer continued to tongue him hard. Lucifer was unzipping his own jeans and Sam caught them by the belt loops and pulled them down. Then he was pulling out of Luce’s mouth and flipping him over onto his back. Sam licked his fingers and rubbed them on Lucifer’s ass. He was so ready. Lucifer jerked his hips up towards Sam in invitation. It was all Sam needed and he pushed his wet cock into Luce stretching him and wanting him. His head was filling with white lights again but this was ecstasy. He pounded Luce’s ass and Luce moaned in pleasure. Sam was in control. Sam was top. In his joy he came inside his Lucifer and Lucifer’s grace exploded outwards, breaking the light bulbs and cracking the windows. Sam pulled out and collapsed on the floor, spent and satisfied. 

Luce stood over him and Sam could see his wings, dark, majestic and awesome. Lucifer was smiling and extended a hand to Sam, said “Come on, I need some spooning to recover.”

______________________________

 

NEXT DAY

The customer buzzer rang in the exclusive tailor’s studio on the upper story of the designer menswear store on Rodeo Drive. The tailor looked at his CCTV. There were two guys at the door. One guy was really tall and dressed like he was a FBI extra from Men in Black. The shorter man was not dressed like his usual clientele, in fact he was positively scruffy in old denims and an olive green shirt, and he had his arm possessively linked into the tall guy’s elbow. They were obviously a couple and the tailor knew that it was difficult to tell who had money these days.

“Come on up” he spoke into the headset and buzzed them in.

The tall guy had to duck his head to come in the door at the top of the stairs. He glanced around him in a shy way, which the tailor found endearing and quite attractive. The shorter guy followed him in, touching the tall guy’s lower back. The tailor wondered if he ever kept his hands off him. 

The tall guy spoke, “I need a suit, tie and shirt in snow white.”

The tailor could understand why he would need a bespoke suit. It could not be easy getting clothes to fit his frame well.

“Certainly, sir, have you been with us before?”

“Call me Sam, It is my first time at your establishment. Luce is paying” Sam gestured awkwardly at his companion.

“No problem, I just need to take your measurements. Join me over in the measuring area and remove your jacket please” the tailor replied smoothly, pointing towards a low platform to the right.

As he began taking the width of Sam’s back, the shorter guy hopped up to sit on the edge of the cutting table. He was staring intently at Sam.

Sam spoke to the other guy, “Luce, explain to me again, do you really need me to this?”

“There is a coup brewing downstairs and we cannot ignore it. We need to stop it before it spreads.”

The tailor had not pegged them as corporate types but perhaps he was wrong. He glanced at the guy swinging his legs on his cutting table. The man was hard to look at, almost like his eyes didn’t want to see him. Turning back to Sam he asked “Please open your legs a little for me”. 

Sam changed his stance and the tailor thought he could see the other man licking the inside of his top lip, or at least he thought that was what he had seen, but there was something deformed about the guy’s tongue. Sam was looking that way too and his pants twitched, but the tailor was professional and he ignored it.

“So you want me to go in upfront”, Sam was saying, “With me in control, unarmed, and then I hang back...”

“When the time is right, I’ll take over and they won’t know what hit them” Luce started to laugh. A dread chill moved down the tailor’s spine at the sound and all of sudden he couldn’t wait for this creepy couple to get out of his studio.

____________________________

THE WAREHOUSE

Sam was trying to get a piece of Vietnamese noodles out from between his teeth as his approached the metal fire exit door on the side of the abandoned warehouse. He had a torch, a flick-knife and an old service revolver. The colt and the demon knife were safely locked in the trunk of the Impala, too precious to fall into the wrong hands, and he was meant to be on a research scout. He felt unarmed. He also felt strange knowing that Lucifer was inside him, but so well hidden that Sam could barely sense him. If he hadn’t been knocked backwards by the light entering him at the hotel, he might have been able to fool himself that he was alone in his body. He also felt great. He was walking into a nest of demons, according to Lucifer a nest of demons with reasons to hate him, and he felt fabulous and complete. He felt a wave of calmness being pushed at him, and realised that Lucifer was telling him to get in the zone, not to let any act or reaction betray the real situation.

He pulled the door open and looked down at the yellow ash on the ground. No doubt they had the right place. There was a faint tang of sulphur in the air and Sam could hear someone moving inside. He pretended he had not heard a thing and turned on his torch moving in sideways. He made his way down through the rows of empty shelving towards the central open floor area. As he moved stealthy across the space he heard someone clear their throat behind him.

“Sam Winchester” Meg drawled.

“Meg” Sam spat, turning around to face her.

“What are you doing in my warehouse?” 

“Hunting, you have been leaving omens and sulphur vapours, were you trying invite me to find you?”

“I didn’t think we were being so obvious. But you would turn up at the flipping of a coin if the results it didn’t match the probability.”

“Did you say we?” Sam asked her as he was caught from behind and the torch and gun were slapped from his hands. Another demon pulled the knife from his pocket. He was being held tightly by a large meatsuit.

“Yes, Sam. You know, you didn’t exactly try and save me from Crowley, after I helped you and Dean with poor crazy Castiel.”

Sam said nothing to this. He was being dragged backwards towards a freestanding office area. Meg was following.

“What am I going to do with you? “

“Let me go?”

“No Sam, that is not on my list of options. No Dean around to save you now. We might have some fun. I know a few of my friends would like a chance to have fun with you, and you are all better now, no more crazy Sammy, all the better for you to realise what is happening.”

“Meg, please, you have worked with us. What is going on?”

“Oh Sam, this does not concern you, but you Winchesters always seem to poke your noises in where they do not belong. But this time Sam, you are not getting in my way.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about, how can I get in the way?” He was being tied to an old chair.

“Crowley’s days are numbered...”

“Good” Sam interrupted her, “You think I am on Crowley’s side after he walked away leaving Dean and Cas in purgatory?”

“The point is Sammy” Meg drawled slowly, “I know you are not on my side. You hated it when Dean had me watching Castiel. I saw the way you looked at me, wanting me gone. You can’t wait for a chance to do your Latin exorcism gig on me. Sit here and stew for a while, I think we might need to have a staff briefing while you are here, there are some people just dying to meet you”. Meg laughed and walked away. 

The two demons checked Sam was securely tied and followed her out into the main area.

_That was smooth sailing_ , Lucifer thought.

_I am disarmed, tied to a chair, waiting to be tortured, and you think it was smooth sailing?_ Sam thought back at him.

_Going to plan so far, I am going to retreat again in case they’ve mind-readers on ‘staff’, we don’t want them thinking you have multiple personalities._

Sam had actually fallen asleep. It must be something about Lucifer’s presence, he couldn’t sleep at all when he was hallucinating Lucifer but now he could sleep on a bed of nails, or tied up in a demon lair. There was the middle of some kind of argument outside the office. 

“Why didn’t you just kill him? It is stupid to have him here. He is a risk to all our plans!”

“He could be useful. How will any of you explain to our Father that you destroyed his vessel, when we release him from The Cage?” said a male demon.

“We don’t have to kill him but I would like a little time with him. I have a point to make with Sam Winchester.” This time it was a young female voice.

“I’m in for a little fun” said yet another demon.

“Wait” Meg’s voice, “I have no objection to some playtime with the boy, but some limits here guys, we don’t want to kill him unintentionally, he could also be useful with Crowley, at least, let’s wait until Brady gets here.”

Sam’s stomach flipped. Brady had killed Jess. Sam had killed Brady, but he must have only killed Brady’s meat-suit. It seemed as if Brady had climbed out of hell. Sam pushed against his ropes. He wished he had the little knife hidden up his shirt sleeve. He didn’t know what he would do if Brady really arrived. The demons were discussing who got to torture him. Sam liked this plan less and less every minute. He closed his eyes and tried to block it all out.

He opened his eyes. There was a teenage girl in front of him. She was real emo looking with long straight black hair and black clothes. She even had an inverted pentacle on her t-shirt. She looked about fifteen. Her eyes were black.

“Well Sam, long time no see”.

“Sorry” Sam replied, “I don’t recognise you.”

“I am sorry to hear that. We worked so well together”.

This demon couldn’t be an ex-hunter. Surely this was not someone that he and Dean, and maybe even Dad, had worked with and trusted.

“You boys were the thorn in my side. I was tricked into spending my last days on Earth with you, and it was all about saving Dean, fat lot of effing good it did you”.

“Bela?”

“I prefer Belle now. I was used as a pawn in your destiny, Sam Winchester. I have nursed my bitterness for centuries in hell. It helped my conversion to demon. You know when I was on the rack in hell and they told me how I was just a means to an end in the great plan, I was sorry for you and your brother. I was sorry for your fucked up lives until Dean arrived.”

Sam gasped.

“Yes Sam, your darling brother who can do no wrong. He took his turn on me. I arrived in Hell before he did and I was still on the rack when he had stepped off. He enjoyed it Sam. He gloried in it. Flaying me and laughing. Looking at Alastair for approval.” Bela produced a thin long dagger and stabbed Sam in the thigh with it. “See how it feels. You know what I thought. I thought how disappointed you would be if you knew that Dean was letting himself be turned. Even after Dean had been rescued and I had turned myself, sometimes I thought of you and wondered. Then I heard the reports from the lowest levels. The love-story of The Cage. How could you? I gave my life, so many others gave their lives to help you and Dean, and when you get to hell you don’t even have to go on the rack, you get protected and guarded by Lucifer himself. I despise you Sam Winchester.” She pulled the dagger out of his thigh and stuck it into his torso.

“Bela, you have no idea what The Cage is like. I burned” Sam could taste the sulphuric flames in his mouth. “I burned for centuries”.

“But not all the time. You can’t fool me. We know he hid you under His wings.”

She pulled the dagger from his torso and Sam bit his lip to stop a cry. Then she sliced his bicep.

“Belle, slow down”. It was Brady. Sam knew it was Brady, even though he was in a new body, as tall as Sam but older and skinny, with slightly receding black hair and a hooked nose. He was wearing black denims and an NYPD sweatshirt.

“Brady” Sam breathed through his pain. 

“You know me. Saves introductions. We had such good times in college until I burned up your girl. How about some fire? You should be used to it.”

Flames were licking at Sam’s feet.

“Remember the last time we met, when you stabbed me” Brady’s eyes had turned. He pointed upwards and the flames started to rise burning into Sam’s legs.

“Come up” Sam screamed.

“What Sam? You want the flames to rise. You are one sick puppy”.

“Please, please come up”, Sam roared.

“Have you lost your mind again? How unfortunate.” Brady was smiling sickly. “I do enjoy a little fire play and we were only getting started”.

“Why is he roaring so loud they can probably hear him outside?” said Meg coming into the room.

“I think I broke something in him with the fire.”

“You always have to use fire, Brady, can you not be more subtle?”

Sam had stopped screaming.

Meg, Bela and Brady turned towards Sam as he said in a calm and clear voice, “You were never capable of subtle. It was always a flaw.”

“What did you say, Winchester?” Brady looked at him quizzically. 

The fire was gone.

“I never knew why Azazel took a messed up ex-human like you under his tutelage. You were always an incompetent and stupid demon” 

Lucifer broke the chair underneath his vessel and stood up in full control of Sam.

“Fuck” said Brady.

“And Sam hates you for what you did to Jess, so...” Lucifer snapped his fingers and Brady’s body parts decorated the walls.

“As for you baby-demon” Lucifer turned to Bela, “How dare you mock my bond with my vessel? You are impudent and insolent. Get out of that meat-suit and go and beg Crowley for forgiveness and we might not come after you” Lucifer twisted his extended hand, identical to Sam’s own actions when exorcising and Bela’s smoke departed the teenager. Then he clicked his fingers again and there was the sound like a dozen watermelons imploding in the warehouse.

“Meg, we are alone.” Lucifer looked at the demon.

“Lucifer. I did all this for you. All my time as a demon has been aimed at your glory. I was part of the team who moulded Sam. I am rising against Crowley who has stolen the title of King of Hell. I wanted to help you escape the Cage.”

“No Meg, you tried to kill Sam with the deavas before he had even a chance to be revealed as my chosen one, then you possessed him in violation of all the rules of Hell, you are only rising against Crowley because you know he is looking for you, and what have you ever done to help me?”

“Please Lucifer, I am loyal to you” Meg spoke slowly and seductively as she moved towards him, “read me you will see”.

“Even if that is true, we have a problem.”

“What is it? I am sure we can work on it together”. Meg brushed her head against Sam/Lucifer’s chest.

“The problem is that I have Sam’s OK to kill you. You said that the Winchesters poke their noses in where they don’t belong. Well pot, kettle, black.” 

Meg looked up at Lucifer and pleaded, “But I can overthrow Crowley for you”.

“I have appointed Crowley as my regent and you are a traitor to the regime and I pronounce your death”.

Meg started to shake. White foam was coming out her mouth and blood poured from her nose, eyes and ears. Then as she screamed Lucifer dug into her forehead with Sam’s nails and pulled her scalp away from her head. “This is the fate of traitors”. 

He stuck his hand through her chest and removed her beating heart. The smoke started to escape from her mouth, but as it did Lucifer blew on it and it froze into a giant black ice sculpture. He picked Bela’s dagger up from the floor and drove it into the frozen smoke, shattering it and it collapsed into a heap of ash on the ground.

"Dead enough for you, Sam?"

_Yes. I wish we had killed her in Chicago when she was really in Meg Masters._

_It would have saved a lot of trouble but no regrets Sam. I need to contact Crowley and get him to send a cleanup team. It is rather messy outside. Then back to the hotel and I will return your body to you, as promised._

_Luce?_

_Yes Sam._

_I have thought of something you can do for me._

"Yes Sam?" Lucifer queried aloud as he flicked a droplet of blood out of his suit.

_Can you find a way into purgatory?_


	7. A Message From Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally Dean and Castiel.... and more Sam and Lucifer...  
> This fic really did have a mind of its own as I wrote it....

________________________________________________________  
PURGATORY

Dean was panting. There was a line of perspiration trickling down his spine. He stopped running, bending over at the waist with his hand pressed against the stitch in his side. 

Castiel caught up with him and put his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Are you alright Dean?”

“Just peachy. Have we lost them?”

“We are no longer being pursued”

Dean sank down to rest on a convenient rock. 

Cas remained standing, on look out, glancing around in every direction. 

Dean tried to quieten his loud recovery breaths, so that Cas would hear any approaching danger. He was winded and pissed. He is pissed that the nameless monsters had got the jump on him. He was pissed that they seemed to be no closer to getting out of purgatory and pissed that they were headed towards Hell. He was pissed with Cas because he would not even let the door into Heaven be put on the table for consideration. He was pissed because he was here while his brother was left to fight Lucifer alone. He was trying not to imagine what facing the real version of all his hallucinations might be doing to Sam.

“Dean! ‘Ware” 

Dean’s head jerked up in time to see a 2 foot high, fire truck red, horned and sparkling pixie run up to Castiel and kick the angel in the shins before running off laughing. 

Before Dean could react, Castiel was already chasing the little devil down. 

Dean followed crashing through the undergrowth and swerving to avoid tree trunks. Dean wondered if they could be calling any more attention to themselves and what had happened to their stealth ops plan.

Castiel had the red thing pressed up against a rocky outcrop when Dean caught up with them.

“What is he Cas?

“Presently he is a container, similar to an envelope. Do you not remember his kind? He is an imp, from Hell.”

Then Dean remembered the small army of Hell fairies who assisted the more powerful demons. He also remembered being handed implements of torture by Alastair’s imp so that he would not even have to break away from his job to get a new blade. He stopped the memory from taking over his mind, pushing it down deep. The action was smooth now, well practised after years of burying his memories of Hell.

“Can we use him as our Lassie?” Dean asked Cas.

“I presume that was a cultural reference, Dean?”

Dean rolled his eyes at his friend. “Can we use him as a tracking dog to guide us to the door?”

“Unfortunately not. He is a creature of the sidhe. He can pass between worlds”

The imp was bouncing up and down under Castiel’s hold, looking like he was about to burst with excitement. Dean looked at it with thinly veiled disgust. “What did you mean an envelope, does he contain a letter?”

“He is being used to deliver a message to me. One angel can do this to send a message to another angel.”

“Another angel” Dean sounded doubtful. “The imp came from Hell.”

Cas turned his focus back to the imp. “I give you permission to address me. Whose imp are you?”

“I take care of Crariel’s hound”.

Cas turned back to Dean and told him “Crowley sent him.”

Before Dean could ask how Castiel knew this, the imp interrupted them with a stream of excited chatter.

“Our Lord has returned. Praise him. I have been honoured with this message for The Angel Castiel. My master told me to cross the border into Purgatory, find The Angel Castiel and pour forth my message at your instruction!”

Castiel intoned the correct wording, “Being of the sidhe, open your voice and reveal the contents of the word you have been charged to deliver. I am the intended recipient, Castiel, Angel of Thursday”.

The imp stilled. 

Dean was about to make a joke about a bad Disneyland statue, but the imp began to speak with Crowley’s voice.

“I am sure by now that my dog sitter has told you the news flash”. Crowley’s voice changed to imitating Jack Nicholson in The Shining, “Daddy’s Home”. 

Dean commented “Now that is just freaking me out in all kinds of ways”.

The imp continued in Crowley’s normal voice. “I have two conflicting instructions. So I have decided to communicate to you fellows, both of the contrary orders I am acting under. Why do I trust you with this knowledge? I guess I am a sucker for an Angel in a trench coat. Lucifer turned up in my office and made me Regent of Hell, no more ‘your majesties’, but I am still running the gig down here. Then he tells me I am to have absolutely no contact with purgatory. Guess he knows and he likes it that you boys are stuck there. Then a while ago he summons me to this warehouse in Los Angeles, which he has painted in bloody demon parts, and tells me I am still capable of angelic fairy messaging and I am to send a Tinkerbelle into purgatory to see if you are both alive and if so to tell you that he is looking for the runic key that unlocks the door into Hell, and that he will be in touch. Make of that what you will. Auf Wiedersehen, Pets.”

The imp looked even more gleeful now that the message had been delivered and he began to squeak “Saw Him, I did, could see Him in the gore behind our Master as Master returned to Hell, He is Glorious, Praise him, He has returned to us...”

“That is it, I am going to shut him up,” Dean moved to punch the imp’s lights out.

The imp danced away from him, “He was beautiful and tall and He smelled like you”. Then there was the popping noise of air filling a vacuum, and the imp was gone.

Dean was on the ground dry retching. Cas was trying to console him, telling him the imp may only have meant that Lucifer smelled human, but Dean was convinced that Lucifer was using Sam as his vessel, but he couldn’t fathom how Satan could have gotten Sam to agree again.

___________________________________________

 

MORRO BAY PICNIC AREA, CA

Sam was leaning against the Impala enjoying the afternoon sun and the smell of the sea. He had shirked his jacket and rolled the sleeves of his flannel shirt. He was parked right next to one of the wooden picnic benches. He waited for Luce to return with a late lunch. They had headed north when they left Los Angeles yesterday, now they were nearly in San Francisco. 

Things had been awkward between them since they had shared being inside Sam. Lucifer was acting as if he might break the slender bond between them if he said the wrong thing. Sam was reliving the flames that Brady had lit around him, and then the flames of The Cage, every time he closed his eyes. Sam had insisted on separate rooms last night, but he had been irrationally hurt when Luce had agreed. Sam knew that the separate rooms had been a mistake when he had lived through eight hours of burning night terrors. He blamed Lucifer for not ordering him to share a room and then he would have been safe within his grace. He knew he had asked for the ordering around to stop, but did Lucifer have to pick now to listen to him. 

He needed some music to soothe his stress level down. Nothing from Dean’s collection was going to work. He dug around in the tape box, finding the mix tape he had carefully compiled in the summer of 1995, when Dean and Dad had left him bored and idle in a Denver motel for 3 days while they hunted a werewolf. Sam had carefully labelled the cassette inlay as Sam’s Mix Tape, but Dean had pasted a torn piece of one of Dad’s post-its over the label and now it read Sammy’s Crap Music. Sam bit his lip at the memory. He tried not to think of how he was going to make all this ok with Dean when they got him back from purgatory. He pushed in the tape and pressed play. Madonna was first he recalled. Madonna sounding like she had had a sex change and she was telling him he was the saviour of the beaten, the broken and the damned and welcoming him to a black parade. 

“Sorry Sam, it is the music phenomena, I can’t help it”. Lucifer was back, holding a cardboard coffee tray of lattes in one hand and a paper bag with long sub rolls sticking out it in his other hand. He put the food on the picnic table. “French Vanilla soy latte and a ten-inch super salad sub for you, double shot tall black for me and a steak sub for me. Would you like to join me?”

Sam wondered how Lucifer knew how to choose the food he wanted. Earlier during the drive up here, Sam had felt hot and thirsty. Lucifer had disappeared and then reappeared with a cold bottle of Evian water for him.

Sam sat on the opposite side of the table and sipped the hot coffee. 

“Please don’t worry about the food. I got it in a little organic place off Main Street. Look Sam, there are whales in the bay” Lucifer sounded like a little boy. 

Sam looked and there was a pod of humpback whales making their way north. Sam knew that Lucifer was the uber-eco-freak, thinking the planet would be better off without humankind if he had his post-apocalyptic dream, but seeing this open joyful look on his face made Sam’s heart melt a little bit. 

They stayed at the table after they had eaten watching the sunset over the bay. 

Sam finally broke the silence. “Can I ask you a few things?”

“Shoot, buddy.”

“Are you mollycoddling me?”

“Am I what?”

“Ever since you went back into Nick, it has been like you are walking on eggshells around me.”

“I can sense your distress around me since I handed you back the body. I am trying to give you space. If I had considered just how badly you would have been affected by sharing the body, then I would have come up with an alternative plan, “Lucifer admitted.

“You are so wrong. Having you inside made me feel powerful and whole, especially when you let me hold the reins, but don’t get any ideas, I still am putting serious limits on the time you get in here, white suit or no white suit. The problem was ahem.... it was the.... “Sam swallowed but his throat was dry. He took a sip from the dregs of the cold latte while Lucifer waited putting on a veneer of patience.

“It was the flames. I was burning” He whispered the last part and stared unseeing at the ocean,

Lucifer jumped to his feet. “If I could resurrect that Brady, I would do it, and kill him more slowly this time. Come here baby.” 

Lucifer was around to Sam’s side of the table and was holding him. He was rocking Sam like a baby and crooning in his ear about protecting him from the fire and sheltering him and not letting it consume him ever again. It was intensely chick flick but after a moment, Sam got over his shock at being grabbed and let himself feel safe and surrounded by Lucifer’s wings.

“I wanted,” Sam began through tears leaving it all pour out, “I wanted you to object to the separate rooms last night, I wanted you to spoon me, I wanted to hide in your wings, and I wanted you.”

“I am so sorry, Sam, I was trying to respect your separateness. I am not used to being wrong, you know.”

Sam’s crying turned to laughing “The rest of the world thinks that the word wrong pretty much defines you.”

“Do you Sam?”

“I don’t think so. Not anymore. You are right for me. If I was created to be yours then how can this be wrong?”

Lucifer drew a breath, “You have never admitted that before, you know, never admitted you were created for me. I adore you Sam”.

Sam managed to look embarrassed at this turn in the conversation. He looked away and overheard two women jogging past them commenting on what a cute gay couple they were and he was embarrassed all over again.

“Stop it dude, you are making me all chick-flick here. I have a few more questions.”

“Ok back to being serious.” Lucifer sat next to Sam but he entwined his fingers in Sam’s.

“First where are we going? And don’t say north.”

“We are going to the ruins of your pal Bobby’s place in Sioux Falls.”

“Why?”

“I believe there is a runic artefact buried in the rubble. It was kept in his panic room, so it should be intact. It is needed to access Purgatory”.

Sam’s heart leapt into this throat with hope for Dean and love that Luce was doing more than just asking Crowley to see if his brother was still alive.

“After all this. You know helping me get Dean back and being sure that Crowley is running Hell to your satisfaction. Are you planning a new apocalypse?”

“No. No apocalypse would happen without my estranged brother even if I did want one.”

Sam was a bit nervous about his next question but he had been thinking about it and Luce was in a talkative mood. “Any regrets?”

“Not with us. We are where we are now because of everything that has gone before, and I know you don’t regret pushing us into The Cage because it saved the world. Only one regret. Gabriel. Sam, if I could bring him back I would.” 

Lucifer sounded choked up. “He was my favourite brother. Michael and I were closest, but Gabe was such fun. He had a unique quality for an angel, a sense of humour. He made Heaven heavenly for me and I missed him almost as much as my Father when I was in The Cage on my own.”

It was Sam’s turn to squeeze Luce’s hand. “You know God brought Castiel back twice. Maybe Gabriel isn’t gone, he is probably in hiding again, some African tribal god or an Indian avatar in a remote ashram.”

“Sam,” Lucifer smiled, “Thank you, you give me hope.”  
___________________________________________


	8. The Rescue of Dean Winchester

SOUTH DAKOTA

 

They were almost at Sioux Falls. The sun had just set. Lucifer was driving, thumping the wheel happily along to Thunderstruck.

“Can you turn the volume down?” Sam asked.

“Awh Sam, this is one of your albums that hasn’t changed.”

“I need to make a call”.

“Who do you want to call?” Lucifer asked turning down the music. 

“The Sherriff.”

Lucifer started laughing, “What Sam? Are you turning me in?” He lifted both hands off the wheel. “You got me, cowboy.”

“Hands on the wheel!” Sam urged throwing a bitchface, “I need to call Jody Mills. She was a friend of Bobby’s. She knows what Dean and I do. We can’t just land up at the salvage yard and start digging. Someone will call her and she will be up there, gunning for trespassers.” 

“I don’t know, Sam. I don’t want anyone else involved in our business.”

“I am just going to check in with her and let her know I will be up there”. Sam was already scrolling through his contacts list. He hit Call and was answered on the first ring.

Sam could see Lucifer cocking his head to the side to try and catch both sides of the conversation, but Sam didn’t feel like humoring him and switched the phone to his other ear.

“Hi Sherriff Mills, its Sam... I’m on my way to Bobby’s yard... I’m doing OK... He is still MIA... That is why I am headed to Bobby’s. There might be something there to help me find him, if it has survived in the ashes... No I’m not going in there alone... no he is not another hunter... no Sheriff don’t come up, I won’t be there long... don’t worry, you take care now, I will call you if this works out... yeah I promise... Bye Sherriff.”

A half an hour later they were pulling into the ruins of Bobby’s yard. Sam could see that there had been some attempt at a clean-up and wondered if Sherriff Mills had organised it. Most of the scrap cars were gone with just a few remaining wrecks scattered around. The ruined walls of the house had either collapsed under their own weight or else been bulldozed down. Sam felt a pang of loss and regret returning here, and he realised that if they were going to reach what remained of the panic room then they would have to dig through the remains of the house.

“Luce, what precisely are we looking for, because it is going to be a helleva job finding anything here?”

“It is an ancient Viking runic tile. It shouldn’t be more than a couple of inches wide. The rune needs to be painted in angel blood on both sides of the door to open it.”

“Bobby had a frigging wowser collection of stuff and was a magpie for ancient symbols, but how could he have owned an authentic purgatory slash Hell key card?”

“He didn’t. It is not authentic. It is a fake.”

“You said what?”

“The tile was in the panic room because it is meant to be an artefact from Valhalla, but it is a joke. It is called the Lure of Loki. It is reputed to invoke Loki but it was a prank of Gabriel’s. It does nothing, but Gabriel used the symbol from the door on his fake tile. I don’t know how Bobby Singer came to possess the tile but the tile does not open the door.”

“Why do we need the tile, if it is fake?”

“I need to see the symbol. Every detail must be correct when it is painted on the door. Then we can get Crariel and Castiel to do their stuff.”

“Will it work if Crariel does it? Doesn’t he have demon blood?”

“It will work. He might be a demon but he is still a fallen angel.”

A car was turning into the entrance way. It was the sheriff.

Lucifer moved behind Sam.

“Awesome,” Sam sighed, “I told her to stay away.”

Jody Mills got out of her patrol car and approached Sam holding a box of donuts and a tray of coffees. 

“Food run is here”, she smiled and popped the tray on the hood of a car. Then she pulled Sam into a hug. Her head barely reached his shoulders but she could squeeze like a gorilla. “You didn’t really think that I was going to let you pass through my town without checking up on you, Sam Winchester? Who is your friend?”

“Nick Lucas” said Lucifer coming out from behind Sam to shake the sheriff’s hand.

“How do you know Sam, Nick?”

“Oh Sammy and I go way back.”

“Sheriff,” Sam interrupted, “How is the town?”

“Thanks for asking. We are getting back to normal. It has been slow but we are getting there. Thanks for the early warning about the food contamination, by the way. Even the hospital is almost back to full operation.”

Sam grimaced as he was overwhelmed by the memory of being taken to the hospital after the leviathan attack, the nightmarish ambulance ride with Dean seriously injured and hallucinating a mocking Lucifer and trying to stay sane. 

Lucifer put his hand under Sam’s shirt and pressed against the small of his back, “I’m real Sam”.

Jody watched this exchange with one eyebrow raised. Then she turned her back to give them a moment. By the time she had turned back around Sam looked like he had himself back under control and ‘Nick’ was squeezing Sam’s hand as if he was his boyfriend.

“Are you sure you are ok Sam?” Jody asked.

“Yeah, Sheriff, let me taste those donuts you have brought”.

They didn’t talk much during their snack. Jody tried to get ‘Nick’ to tell her where he had met Sam, what he did for a living, and how had he met up with Sam again. She got short answers which told her nothing – Detroit – Run a company – New Mexico. She noticed that ‘Nick’ kept his leg pressed against Sam’s the whole time as if challenging her to comment on their relationship. When the coffee and food was gone ‘Nick’ announced that he was going to scout out the ruins and left Jodie and Sam.

The Sherriff peered at Sam, “Are you gay Sam? Are you in a relationship with that guy?”

“Don’t you approve, Sheriff?”

“Your sexual orientation is none of my business. I have been a cop for a long time and I have a hard and fast rule that I do not interfere in other people’s private lives unless I have been called in professionally. But there is something not good about him Sam.”

“You only met.”

“Call it my police instincts. I don’t think ‘Nick Lucas’ is that guy’s real name. I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

Sam just shook his head.

“One final word and then I will leave you to your treasure hunt. Ask yourself, Sam, would your brother like him?” and with that parting shot she leaned over and gave Sam’s cheek a kiss, told him to take care, and left.

Lucifer stepped out from behind a car. Sam could see he was tense. Then as Sam watched him, he stuck his tongue out at the receding tail-lights.

“Can we get back on plan here, Luce? How are we going to get down to the panic room? And how are we going to find a 2 inch tile in the rubble?”

“Once we get near I will be able to sense Gabriel’s imprint on it. We need help to move the rubble.”

“Who is going to help us?” Sam said looking around the empty lot.

“Dante could do it.”

“Who?”

“My hell hound.”

“No freaking way! I am not being responsible for a hell hound being let loose in Sioux Falls”, as Sam spoke, he could hear heavy panting and the padding of a very large dog. His voice went up an octave as he asked “Where is it? I can’t see it. Don’t you know that some of those hounds have my scent?”

Then Sam saw glowing red eyes right in front of his navel. Then a wet dog’s tongue was licking his hand.

“I think he likes you.” Lucifer looked pleased, “He has good taste. He won’t hurt you and I won’t let him hurt anyone else. He is just going to do a bit of digging for us, aren’t you boy. There is a good dog. It will be just like when he is digging for a bone he has buried.”

Sam didn’t like to think of what kind of bones a hell hound buried.

______________________________________________

PURGATORY

Castiel was concerned about Dean. He had shut down completely. His eyes were dead. He spoke only if Castiel asked him a direct question. Castiel had to pull him up by his arms to get him to start walking in the morning. The closer they got to Hell, the worse he seemed to be. He knew, even a brief return to Hell was going to be traumatic for Dean, but he understood that was not the true cause of the shut down. The real reason that Dean had cut himself off from everything was that the imp had revealed that Lucifer was wearing Sam as his vessel, or his meat-suit as Dean would say. Castiel was worried but he didn’t know what more he could do, except try and get Dean back to Sam as fast as he could.

“None of this is your fault, Dean.”

Dean ignored him.

“Dean, you have not done this to your brother.”

“Yes I did, Cas. I left him. I left him alone again. Every time I leave him alone he gets destroyed. It is my job to protect Sammy.”

“Dean that has not been your job for a long time. He is a grown man. You are not two boys surviving alone while your Dad hunts, anymore.”

“It doesn’t matter what you say. He went to Stanford and was surrounded by a gang of demons. I left him walk away from me on a lonely road and he met Meg. There was Cold Oak, the demon blood, and what he did when he was soul-less and I was playing happy families with Lisa and Ben.”

Castiel looked uncomfortable at the last example.

“And now,” Dean continued turning away from Castiel, “I can’t. How am I going to get him back from this one?”

When Dean swung back there was an imp looking up at Castiel.

“Cas, I think you’ve got mail.”  
________________________________________

Hours later, Dean and Castiel were finally at the door. It was strange seeing a plain wooden door hanging between two tree trunks. It was dead plain, no panels or decoration. No neon sign saying Hell. Dean walked around to the back of the door but it looked the same. The only way to tell that they had been standing on the correct side it was the keyhole in that side.

They were waiting for an imp to appear, as the signal that Crowley was painting the rune on the other side. Then Castiel had to paint it on their side with his own angelic blood. Castiel reached over to Dean and held him by his shoulder, near where the handprint used to be. Dean let him do it. Then there was an orange imp standing bedside the door gesturing wildly at it. Castiel whipped Dean’s knife out of his belt, slashed his left arm, and started to paint the symbol on the door. There was no incantation. As soon as he had completed encircling the rune, the door swung back to reveal Crowley.

“Hello boys, welcome to Hell”.

“Come on, Dean” Castiel caught Dean’s wrist and brusquely pulled him through the door with him.

Dean quipped “Thought your job was to pull me out of Hell, not into it”, but he didn’t feel like laughing. He looked around him. They were on a hill. Looking up Dean could see the clouds of sulphur and lightning. The noxious smell was just as he remembered it. There was a desert plain below them that Dean could have sworn used to have a multitude of souls strung across it. Now there were thousands of souls walking slowly in a snaking line, like a bad version of a crowd waiting for a stadium concert.

“Do you like my queue, Dean? The Boss is impressed by it.”

Dean said nothing.

“How do we get out?” Castiel asked.

“I am going to make your day, angel. You need to touch Dean, just to transport him to my office, don’t get carried away.”

Castiel placed a hand on Dean’s forehead and they were at the office.

“I need to find Sam, now!”

“Hold your horses, compadre. They are not here. They are on their way back from Sioux Falls.” Crowley said with exaggerated patience.

“They?” Dean forced the word out. “I need to rescue him. Need to get Lucifer out of my brother’s body.”

“Not they like that, Dumbass. Your brother is not currently Lucifer’s meat-suit. Your precious Sammy is with Lucifer.”

Dean collapsed against Crowley’s desk in relief.

“We can rescue him, Cas. Get him away from Lucifer,” Dean’s eyes brightened.

Crowley cleared his throat.

“You always were the slow brother. Your sauropod of a brother is not being held hostage by Lucifer. He is with him. They are together, all Brokeback Mountain.”

Dean glared at the demon, “I don’t believe a word of it.”

_________________________________________

RAPID CITY, SOUTH DAKOTA

Sam was in their room at the Kings X Lodge Motel. He was pacing back and forth like a child waiting for his birthday party, not that he had ever had one of those. He ran his hand though his hair, glancing across at Lucifer’s phone on the bed, waiting for Crowley to call. Lucifer had gone to the mini-mart to buy a few vegetables to make soup in the room’s kitchenette. The motel cat was on the outside of the window staring in at Dante, who was currently manifest as a Doberman Pincher lying across the doorway and glaring back at the brave cat with glowing red eyes. Sam had protested at having Dante slobbering all over the backseat of the Impala, saying Dean wouldn’t like his car smelling of dog. The phone was ringing. Sam fumbled with sliding it back to answer.

“My Lord?” Crowley said.

“He is out. Is my brother safe?”

“Yes Moose, they are both out of Purgatory and waiting in my office. Where are you?”

“Kings X, Rapid City. Can I talk to him?”

“Well, Sam, I haven’t been instructed about that. I don’t want to piss the Big Boss off, you know. Do you have enough kit with you to summon me? No devil traps, thanks, mate.”

“Yeah I have all I need in the trunk.”

“Ok. You summon me, and I’ll get Cary Grant and his Clarence to tag along for a free ride out of Hell.”

___________________________________________

CROWLEY’S OFFICE

“They are in Rapid City at the Kings X Motel.”

Castiel asked, “Crowley are you in regular communication with the Morningstar?”

“I didn’t catch him this time,” said Crowley, avoiding the question, “I gave Sam the go to summon me. So we had better get ready quick smart. You and chuckles need to stand on the edge of this circle”. Crowley pulled back the rug to reveal a circle of symbols. “Make sure that both your feet are crossing the line and you guys will need to hold hands.”

“You are enjoying this, you douche bag” Dean threw at him.

“A little gratitude would be nice. I just go you out of limbo and now I am getting you out of Hell, unless you would like to stay... no takers? Fine. This is not an exact method of transport, you may end up on top of me or you might find yourselves up to a mile away.”

Dean and Castiel had only just positioned their feet over the line when they found themselves on a rain drenched sidewalk outside the Kings X Lodge.

Dean saw the Impala first. “Oh, Baby” he crooned, but then he saw the white suit hanging in a dry cleaner’s cover inside the back window and he felt sick.

Then Sam was barrelling out a door and running towards him. He was caught in a football tackle and his brother was bear hugging him on the sidewalk. The both threw flasks of holy water in each other’s faces at the same time. Then they were both drying their faces with the bottom of their T-shirts and laughing. 

Dean couldn’t believe it. He wanted to pinch himself. This was Sam, not Lucifer. As soon as Dean had thought of him it was like he had summoned his presence. There he was looking like his old vessel, slouching against the motel door. Dean stood to military attention and started to march towards Lucifer. Sam was too fast for him and got his body between them, facing Dean. Lucifer placed an arm possessively around Sam’s waist. Dean could not believe his eyes as his brother relaxed back into the embrace.

“What the fuck, Sam?” Dean looked behind at Lucifer. “You take your hands off my brother.”

“Dean...” Sam tried to talk.

“Not now Sammy”, Dean looked at Lucifer again. “I said, take your hands off him.”

“I am not hurting him, Dean. I’m making him happy.”

Dean wanted to strangle the devil with his bare hands, wipe the smarmy smile off his face.

“Do you believe this crap, Sam?”

“He doesn’t lie to me, Dean.”

Dean looked hurt, “I never lied to you”.

“I didn’t say you did, Dean,” Sam pleaded, “Please let me explain.”

“Let you explain? I have heard this before. The last time I came back from Hell. If I remember right it was you doing the lying then about Ruby. But Lucifer. Sam? Lucifer? Open your freaking eyes!”

“Don’t make me leave him. He makes me feel safe. We are like you and Cas.”

“Cas and I aren’t fucking. Jeez, Sam, can I not leave you alone for a few weeks. Is he... Is he forcing you?”

“No Dean. No. It is not like that. In the early years in The Cage he used to....”

“I’ll fucking kill him.”

“Dean, stop, please. It hasn’t been like that for a long time.”

“Sam, what long time? The time you were cell mates in Hell doesn’t count. I know I was in Hell for 40 years. What happens in Hell doesn’t count.”

Sam knew that Dean was talking about himself then, and that what happened in Hell did count to Dean. “Dean” he said softly and moved out of Lucifer’s hold to hug his big brother, returned to him whole from purgatory.

“Don’t touch me. Don’t you dare touch me with that hand. I don’t know what you have been doing with that hand.”

Sam jumped back as if stung.

“Dad warned me.”

“Oh My God, we are back to Dad.”

“He warned me. Told me you would turn demon.”

“I am not a demon.”

“What are you?”

Lucifer stepped between them, “He is mine. Get out of here Dean and only come back when you have calmed down and can speak to Sam in a civil manner. Castiel, Take your charge out of here now.”

Dean looked coldly at Sam, “Give me the keys.”

“What?”

“Baby’s keys”.

Sam dug into his jeans pocket and handed over the keys.

Dean turned beckoning to Cas and without another word, he opened the door of the Impala and tossed the infernal suit into an oily puddle. He jumped into the front as Cas climbed in the other side and drove away trying not to see Lucifer comforting his brother in the rear view mirror.

Dean pulled over before they reached the highway. Cas had been insistent, “you cannot drive in this emotional condition”.

“Cas, this is worse. Worse than my fears. Worse than Lucifer using him as his vessel. I had a plan for that, to help Sam force him out, like last time. I was going to help him remember good times, happy things, pranking, our best hunts. This is so much worse. He wants to be with Satan. He is happy with him. Christ, Cas, he is fucking him. I can never make this right. What did that bastard do to my brother in The Cage?”

“Do you want me to answer that question, Dean?”

Dean steeled himself and took a breath, “I think I do.”

“Lucifer did everything you are imagining and more until he broke Sam but then he relented. Dean, this is not like you and Alastair.” Dean flinched but Castiel continued, “It is not even like you and Michael could have been. Sam was created by God for Lucifer and Lucifer has staked his claim.”

“Don’t you give me that crap, Castiel? You cannot be serious. Are you approving of this abuse of my brother? Because that is what this is. This whole _relationship_ is abusive and degrading. Are you telling me after all we did as Team Free Will, that Sam is ordained by God to be Lucifer’s bitch, and you are fine with that?”

“Free will did not work out very well for me.”

“Fuck you Cas. Fuck you and your God. Get out of my car. Fuck off and disappear Castiel!”

Alone Dean bent his head to the steering wheel.

The next morning Dean woke up in a motel room, not remembering how he had got there. He was fully dressed, an empty quart of Hunter’s gold was in his hand and his knuckles were bloody. Someone was hammering on the door.

“Sir, Mr Plant, it is passed checkout time.”

________________________________________

A week later Dean had cooled down enough to call one of Sam’s old cell phone numbers. He was too worried not to contact his brother.

Sam answered, “Dean?”

“Yeah, will you meet me on your own?”

“OK, where and when?”

“I am in Louisiana. There was a voodoo chick problem.”

“Are you hunting?”

“Aren’t you?”

“No. Where do you want to meet?”

“Remember that coffee shop on the corner of Bourbon Street in New Orleans?”

Sam grunted his agreement.

“Saturday at 2? Should be nice and crowded with tourists, so we can’t really create a scene.” Dean hung up.

_______________________________________

Sam had refused to get out of bed for 3 days after Dean had driven away. Luce had treated him as if he had the flu, bringing him drinks and making him eat chicken soup. He had told the motel manager that Sam had mono, to keep the staff out of the room and explain their extended stay. 

Finally on the Monday, Sam got up and sat looking out the window at the spot where the Impala had been parked.

“Talk to me Sam, I miss you.”

“Right here.”

“No you are not. Please let me help”.

“You can’t help. You are the problem.”

“Do you need me to give you space? I can leave for a while and let you work things out with your brother.”

“No, Luce, don’t go. Stay. I am better when you are around. Please don’t go for food this evening. Can’t we do real take out? Dial a meal?”

“Ok but I will be grilling the place about their ingredients. I’ll tell them you have allergies.”

Sam smiled in spite of the pain in his chest. Dean hated him. He disgusted Dean. Dean thought he was turning into a demon. He had been in Hell more than four times longer than Dean and he had not turned. He couldn’t stay angry at Dean. He had damaged his already wounded brother, again. He wanted to call Dean and apologise, but he wasn’t sorry about Lucifer. He was not going to give up Lucifer. Sam set his jaw determinedly.

“You OK, Sam?”

“Not even a little bit. You know I had thought about what to say to him. How I could explain us to him. I had several different versions running around in my brain, not confident that any of them would make him understand. But he never even gave me a chance to tell him. He just saw us and hated me.”

“Your brother doesn’t hate you. He is worried about you. He thinks I have corrupted you, that I have turned you into my bitch.”

Sam was staring at Luce, sitting next to him. He couldn’t believe that he had verbalised that thought.

“Do you think that you are my bitch, Sam?”

“I used to. In The Cage. When you called me your possession. Even later on after you had stopped the punishments, I still thought it.” Sam was finding it difficult to continue, but Lucifer began stroking the pulse at Sam’s wrist. “When we had sex for years I only saw the rape, but then I started to look at you, instead of back at my memories and I saw it. I saw that you loved me.” 

Lucifer’s hand clenched Sam’s wrist. 

Sam looked at the ceiling and continued, “You don’t say it to me. You say you adore me, or that I am yours or that I am beautiful, but you do love me. Maybe you don’t know what love is, because you are an angel, but I know what love is and I saw it in you when you sheltered me with your wings. You just didn’t know how to love me at first. When you touched my forehead in New Mexico, I remembered your love. It flooded me and I thought I had Stockholm Syndrome. But I was created for you. There I have said it. Now please can we put this box back under the bed and man up?”

Lucifer looked overwhelmed by Sam’s speech. He sat in total stillness while Sam kissed the back of his neck.

“Now Bitch,” Sam said smiling, “You order us some take out and help me work out how to fix things with Dean.”

It was another three days before Dean had phoned.  
____________________________________________

NEW ORLEANS

Outside their hotel, Sam said no to Lucifer.

“Take Dante with you, Sam.”

“No”

“You cannot go without some protection”

“You want me to bring a Hell Hound to my brother. My brother who was dragged into hell by one.”

“Dante doesn’t have to look menacing. He can look like an Old English sheepdog. Please take him. If there are any supernatural threats Dante will protect you and if your brother wants to kill you then Dante will take the bullet. He won’t hurt Dean under any circumstances. I have forbidden him to.”

Sam agreed and soon he was walking Dante down Bourbon Street looking for the coffee shop and hoping it would still have tables outside because Dante would not be allowed inside. He saw his brother. Dean was leaning against the door jam of the cafe tapping his foot nervously.

“Dean” Sam nodded.

“Sam, sit down, would you like a vanilla latte?”

“Please”.

Dean returned with their order. “Where did you get a dog?”

“He is Luce’s. For protection.”

“ _Luce_. Where is _Luce_?”

“Hotel.”

“Are you coming with me?”

“What? Do you mean now, in the Impala, hunting?” Sam looked confused.

“Yes, Sam, that is exactly what I mean.”

“No I can’t.” Sam looked down at Dante’s paws, sorry to disappoint his brother, but Dean translated the gesture as evidence that Sam was forced to return to Lucifer.

“What hold has he over you? Is it a spell like Becky did on you in Vegas? Don’t tell me you married him, he is not allowed to be a Winchester.”

“No Dean. I am not under a spell. Anyway I think I’d be a Morningstar”

“Freaking Hell, you’ve thought about that. Is he feeding you demon blood?”

“No Dean, please.”

Dean’s voice dropped to a whisper “Is he forcing you?”

“Dean, please, let me speak. It is not like that. I want to make you understand.”

“I don’t want to understand”.

“At least hear me out. Please.”

“OK.”

“Jerry Maguire.”

“What does that mean?”

“I complete him and he completes me.”

“Well, whoop-de-fucking-doo. Let’s hire a billboard. Sam Winchester completes Satan.”

“Don’t call him that. Please listen....”

But Dean was already walking away.

______________________________________

Sam wondered if he would hear from Dean again, but the next morning Dean called. He sounded hung-over but sober.

“Is he there Sam?”

“No, he has gone to get breakfast.”

“Sam you need to get away from him. You need to see things clearly and you can’t do that when you are with him”.

“No” and this time Sam hung up.

________________________________________

The following Tuesday morning in Arizona, Sam found a sore on Lucifer’s face. Lucifer was lying with his eyes closed, but Sam didn’t think that he actually slept. Sam had turned around in the bed and propped himself up on his elbow to look at Luce. He reached his hand out to stroke Luce’s forehead and he felt rough patches of skin.”Luce there is something wrong.”

“Sam are you sick?”

“No, but I think you might be. You are breaking out with something,” Sam touched the sore.

“It is the vessel. I have been using it continuously since Los Angeles.”

“Do you need to give it a rest?”

Lucifer leaned over and kissed Sam’s chin. Sam responded by nipping at Lucifer’s top lip.

“Sam, are you offering me a turn inside?”

“I think I am. I trust you to hand me back, but what is the minimum recovery time you need.”

“A day should do it, but only if you are sure about this.”

Sam nodded while his fingers worried gently at the rough patches of skin. Sam smiled “I know you have been itching to wear the white suit”.

Lucifer laughed. “I do need to check my bank account and do a little business. Can I push my luck and ask for control for most of the day, tomorrow?”

“You are always pushing your luck. If I need control back will you cede to me?”

“As long as you understand that if you ask me in the middle of meeting my bank manager or such, we might need to wait until we have left the office.”

“Deal,” Sam said.

“Deal” Lucifer confirmed and kissed Sam moving his forked tongue deep into his throat and pushing Sam back onto the mattress.

_______________________________________________

On Wednesday morning Sam could not deny he was nervous. He had woken before dawn and had a long shower to calm himself. He had shaved carefully and dried his hair. Then he had put on the newly laundered white suit. He looked in the mirror and thought that the suit made him appear different. He had to appreciate the tailoring but it was not a look that he was comfortable with. 

He emerged from the bathroom. Lucifer was sitting on the bed. “Looking good!”

“Let’s do this before my nerve fails”.

“Close your eyes and block your ears”

Even through closed eyes Sam was blinded by the grace. Then it hit into him, filling him, throwing him back into the easy chair. It was done. He knew Lucifer was with him.

_Sam can I come up?_

_Yes I am stepping back now._

Lucifer stretched his legs out and looked down at his hands, Sam’s hands.

_Looking good, Sammy._

_You know it is narcissistic to admire yourself like that._

_Sam you might need to spend some of today asleep._

_Why? Are you planning on going on a murder spree?_

_Not on my checklist. I need to go to the bank which is in Rome, and corporate headquarters in San Francisco. So I will have to jump space and time, you might feel sick._

_Ok_

_Sleep Sam._

When Sam became aware again, he was standing in a piazza in blazing sunshine. Lucifer moved towards a cafe and sat down. A waiter came and Sam heard his own voice say, “Ciao, Uno cafe grande, por favore.”

_You awake Sam?_

_Yeah._

_You alright back there._

_Yeah, you could have ordered a latte._

Lucifer drank his coffee and the waiter returned, “Due Euro, por favore.”

Lucifer produced a wallet from the inside jacket pocket. Sam could see there several different currencies in the note compartment.

“Cinque. Grazie” Lucifer got up to go.

“Grazie, Signore” The waiter actually bowed to Lucifer before he realised what he was doing and stopped mid-bow.

“Prego” Lucifer walked away from the confused waiter.

_Did he just bow to you without knowing what he was doing?_

_I have that effect on some humans._

_Is he a Satanist?_

_No he was just very receptive to our power._

They had arrived at the bank. Lucifer walked across the vast marble entrance hall to reception. He asked in English for “Corporate Clients”. Sam wondered if he was using English for his benefit. Lucifer picked up on his thought.

_I am meant to be American here. Can you stay back while I do some business?_

Next time Sam came to, Lucifer was reaching across a mahogany desk to shake the hand of a swarthy middle aged tanned man in a grey suit.

The man was speaking heavily accented English, “Can you just confirm which office you would like the paperwork to be forwarded to, Signore?”

“L & S Morningstar Enterprises, San Francisco. Thank you for your assistance and let me assure you again that I have no plans to close my accounts with the Vatican.”

Sam was trying not to distract Luce by laughing at the Vatican bank account again, while at the same time being distracted himself by the ‘L & S’.

They walked to the door. “Signor Morningstar, would you mind if I asked you a personal question?”

Lucifer stiffened but said “Go ahead.”

“Your name. We are a religious family. Is it your given name?” The man was fingering a crucifix around his neck.

“You mean, did I legally change my name to Lucifer Morningstar? No, this is the name my Father gave me” Sam waited to see the man’s reaction, but then the man gave a guffaw of laughter and clapped his hands together.

“Apologies for the laugh, Signore, it is amazing the names that some parents will inflict on their children.”

_It was my name first. I think I need to fork your tongue, Sam and stick it out at him to show him how funny my name really is._

_Stop Luce, restrain yourself._

Lucifer walked out of the bank without sticking his tongue out at anyone or at any of the CCTV cameras, but Sam could feel that he wanted to. The heat of Rome hit them once they were outside and Lucifer calmed down.

_Sam I recommend another nap. I need to go to head quarters._

Sam pushed himself back. He didn’t know how he knew how to accomplish this but it was working.

Next time Sam woke they were pushing through tall glass doors with L & S Morningstar Enterprises engraved on the glass. There was a young female demon on duty at reception. With Lucifer in control, Sam could tell she was a demon even though her eyes stayed blue and there was no evidence of sulphur.

“Hello my name is Mandy. How can I help you, sir?”

“It is me.”

“Pardon, sir?”

“Open your eyes, Ashmandeth”.

“My Lord. You are in your vessel.”

“I do not need a commentary on my life, Thank you”.

“My Lord. How can I serve you?”

“Be a receptionist and tell Crowley that I am coming down.”

“Yes, My Lord”.

She hustled over to the phone and dialled one number. “Boss, I know you requested no calls today but our Lord is on his way down to you.”

Sam thought he could heard a shout of “Bollocks” on the other end of the phone as Lucifer moved toward the elevator.

The elevator was all chrome and mirrors. Sam had a strange disconnected feeling as he looked at himself in the mirror. Lucifer pressed a button which had not been visible on the panel a moment before.

The door slid open to reveal Crowley’s office. Sam had already glimpsed the office through the opening Lucifer had made from the warehouse demon lair.

Crowley was not alone. There was a sandy haired slim effeminate guy putting on his shoes in the corner by the drinks cabinet.

“Um, good afternoon” the man said weakly in a British accent.

“Azirafel,” Lucifer glanced briefly in his direction. “Get your angelic ass out of here.”

“Tootles” the angel smiled at Crowley and disappeared.

“Crariel, Ashmandeth said you were not to be disturbed all day. Do not tell me that you were spending the whole day with that dandy?”

“He was just visiting.”

“Really, are you trying my patience?”

Crowley cleared his throat. “Adam Young...”

“What... did... you... say?”

Sam could feel an icy rage building. Sam tried to send calm to help diffuse the bomb.

Lucifer said out loud, “Stop Sam. I can get angry without there being a nuclear reaction. Trust me Sam.” He turned his gaze to Crowley. “So Azirafel is Adam’s representative now is he?”

“No my Lord. He, we thought now that you are back and not being distracted by an apocalypse, you might want the company to invest in Adam Young’s business.”

“This company does not invest. It makes deals. I am not making a deal with Adam Young. He can go to Heaven when he dies and take that stupid Dog I gave him with him. I gave that boy everything. I had a wonderful life arranged for him, money and diplomatic immunity, a million times better than my poor Sam ended up with. It was you. You were playing at being ‘Crowley’ and it was your incompetence...” Lucifer stopped. He could feel Sam’s concern, not that he would harm Crowley, but concern for him. He calmed down.

_Alright Sam. I’m OK, see._

“I came to ask you about the oil field deal. Do we own it yet?”

Crowley straightened his posture and answered “Yes, the paperwork came through last night.”

“Good, shut it down and plant a forest. I need you to consort with another angel. You need to find Castiel and get him back to Dean. Dean is being totally unreasonable. Castiel is a good influence on him. Sam needs Dean back.”

_Thanks, Luce._

_I am not that happy about sharing you._

“My lord about the new headed paper.”

“The stationery? I have told you before that I don’t want to know about day to day issues.”

“No, but, the name? L & S Morningstar?”

“It means that if you cannot reach me then Sam is the boss, and you ask him for directions. Understand? And Crariel, never mention that boy to me again.”

Sam felt ill. Lucifer had forgotten to warn him they were moving location. They were sitting on cool grass at twilight looking down at a lake. The scenery was verdant, lush and greener than Sam had ever seen.

_It is called the Devil’s punchbowl. Thought you might like it._

_You still freaked out? Who is Adam Young?_

_My son from a previous failed apocalypse. He was meant to be the anti-christ but he refused._

_A previous failed apocalypse? There has been more than one?_

_Several over the centuries. That whole drama about Castiel and the souls was all to prevent Raphael from starting another one._

_I know, Luce, he explained at the time. Are we going home now?_

_Would you like an actual home rather than staying on the road? A base of operations even? There is an apartment on the top floor of the San Francisco office._

_________________________________________________


	9. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's issues with Lucifer hit Sam hard.
> 
> WARNING; Potential TRIGGERS in this chapter, Including SELF HARM.  
> The sucidical thoughts tag refers to events here.
> 
> Please take this warning under consideration before reading.

_____________________________________________________________  
THURSDAY

"Dean, why are we eating pie in a diner in Sunnydale, California?"

"Pie is good, Cas." Dean said around the large fork of blueberry pie he had stuffed into his mouth. He grinned at the angel. 

Dean was glad that Cas had found him. Cas had apologised for what he said about Sam, and Dean was willing to thinking about forgiving him, after Cas spent all of yesterday evening working with him on plans to get Sam away from Lucifer. "I always wanted to see if there was really a Hellmouth here."

"There is no Hellmouth on the continental United States."

"Just let me have my Sarah Michelle Gellar fantasy time."

Cas tilted his head, "Really Dean, sometimes I think you speak in another language."

Dean finished his slice of pie with relish and leaned towards Castiel to speak quietly, "I think we are going to go with your plan. If I don't see him or speak to him then I don't know what is happening with him, and that is killing me. Here is hoping that he doesn't hang up on me this time." 

Dean held his phone in his hand, pausing a moment before making the call.

"Sam here".

"I phoned yesterday, dude, and you hung up on me without saying a word.”

Sam said nothing in response to this. He didn't know what to say and couldn’t explain that he was not aware of the call because Lucifer had been in control of his body yesterday.

"Sammy, are you still there, talk to me, man. Are you OK?"

"Yeah, Dean, I'm good."

"Cas is here. He wants the phone."

"Sam, are you in fact 'good'?". Castiel's gravelly voice, sounding uncomfortable talking into a phone, made Sam smile. "Your brother is under tremendous strain worrying about you..."

Sam could hear Dean struggling to grab the phone back from Cas.

Then Dean was back on the line. "I wouldn't have let him on, if I had known he was going to go all chick-flick on me? Meet us Sam."

"I'm in San Francisco. If you want to meet, come here. Top floor, Morningstar Enterprises." There was no way Sam was going to tell Dean that it was really L & S Morningstar. Dean would figure that out when he got there, and if he couldn't deal, then he could bail.

There was a pause and Sam could hear Cas's voice in the background urging his brother to meet him.

"OK, I'll be there in the morning. We're in California."

"You two are not planning to kidnap me are you?"

"No Sammy, promise. Cas has persuaded me that I need to see for myself if you really are alright. He says that it’s better than being in the dark and imagining what could be happening."

"OK Dean."

"You want a present from the road. Some gas stop Twinkies, or some motel room toiletries?"

"No Dean, just you and Cas. I wouldn't mind a drive of the Impala."

"You are not driving my baby, bitch"

"Jerk"

Dean hung up, laughing this time.

_________________________________________________

THURSDAY NIGHT

Sam was tossing in his sleep. He knew that the flames could not get him while Lucifer lay pressed against his skin, but the flames seemed closer. There was a flash of lightning and Sam was standing directly in front of the ensuite bathroom door, but he knew he was still asleep.

It came to him that this was a vision. It felt just like it used to when he began to have all the psychic stuff. He put his hand out and pushed the door open. It swung back slowly and Sam could see into the room. He was looking down at himself. There was blood pooling on the floor and covering the side of the bath. He was wedged down against the wall between the toilet and the bath. His feet had left streak marks in the blood as if he had tried to stand up. There were slash marks across his stomach and his wrists. The blood was dark against his naked skin. He was bleeding out. His breathing was irregular and shallow. There was a knife in the blood and the fingers of his right hand were still loosely holding the hilt. He was looking at the far corner of the room, so in his vision Sam turned to look there too. There was a reaper standing in the shadows.

"Wake up! SAM! Wake up!" Lucifer was shaking him. The vision was gone and he was being shaken violently by Lucifer.

"Sam, Sam. I am here. I am real. The fire can't get you". Lucifer lifted him up from the bed and held him close. He licked Sam's cheek lightly and started to rub his back.

Sam's head felt like it would explode. He said "Blood."

"What babe?"

"Not flames, blood."

Lucifer moved back a little and could see a trickle of blood coming from Sam's nose.

"That wasn't a nightmare, was it?"

"No, think vision, like used to, so much blood..." Sam's voice trailed away.

"Tell me."

"I was in the bathroom."

"Our bathroom? The big one?"

"No this one." Sam cocked his head towards the ensuite's door.

"Something is going to happen in our bathroom? Something supernatural? The whole place is warded against everything from kitsune to angels, and I have an army in the basement."

"Not supernatural."

"Tell me, Sammy, please."

"I was bleeding."

"Are you going to have an accident?"

"Not accidental. I did it to myself." Sam sounded shocky and he was starting to feel cold, but he continued. "Luce, there was a reaper."

"How? Sam? How did you do it? What did you use?"

"Knife. Cut. Cut myself."

"Why? Sam, what had happened? Were you being compelled?"

"I don't know, Lucifer, I don't know. I don't know why I would do such a thing. I don't want to."

"Ring Dean and cancel." Lucifer demanded.

"No Lucifer, please."

"I don't want you dealing with your volatile brother in a few hours time after this has happened. You're too fragile. He'll hurt you. I'll ring him and tell him not to come.”

"Please, please no, Lucifer, I want Dean," Sam was starting to tremble and his eyes had lost focus. "Please. Don't take him away from me. I'll be good. I'll let go".

"Stop, Sam, Stop, please, you are in shock, we are not in The Cage. We are here in our apartment. You don't have to be good. You can do whatever you want, babe, please." Lucifer pulled Sam back in to his chest. "Sammy, we are here in San Francisco, you are with me and I won't let anything happen to you. You can see Dean, I won't stop you." Lucifer pushed his wings out of his back. He normally folded Sam in his astral wings but for the first time since he had returned to the earth he began to manifest his wings physically. He could feel his substitute vessel's muscles tearing and bones dislocating. He concentrated on healing the vessel's internal bleeding as the wings extended out further touching the walls of the room. He should not have even tried to do this trick unless he was in his true vessel when his wings would have smoothly flowed from Sam's spine.

Sam was shaking. He couldn't stop shaking and he wasn't sure where he was. Then the wings came around him, real and soft and beautiful. He leaned into Lucifer's chest and let his whole body be covered. Then he could hear what Lucifer was saying.

"OK, babe, OK it was only a vision, we won't let it happen, you are here with me, in our apartment, we are safe, you aren't hurt, there are no flames or knives, we are really here in our bedroom, nowhere else, I'm real, visions can be changed, you proved that many times, all those people you saved because of your visions, they warned you something bad could happen and then you saved them, we won't let it happen, you are OK now".

Sam stopped quivering. He opened his eyes and looked at the wings. He gingerly stroked the feathers with his fingers, and Lucifer gave a breathy sigh, "Sorry, Sammy, they are very sensitive."

"I remember." He continued to slowly rub his hand against Lucifer's wing feathers. "This is better."

"What is better?" said Lucifer breathlessly.

"Better to feel them here than in The Cage. Better to be here with you in our bedroom. I know where I am, Luce. I'll be OK. It was a shock. So long since I had a vision, and it felt real. I believe you, we can stop it."

"Come back to sleep, Sam, I'll leave the wings out until you nod off."

____________________________________________________

It was just before 8am. Dean and Castiel were waiting for the doors of L & S Morningstar Enterprises to be unlocked. Dean was alternatively pacing and using his thumb to trace the engraved "S" on the glass. He wondered what kind of declaration Lucifer was making by including Sam's initial, and he wondered why Sam had let him find out when he turned up at the door. He was pacing to stop his frustration from swamping him. A couple in suits joined them in waiting for the doors to open. Dean saw the receptionist take her chair inside, a cute Scandinavian looking blonde chick. Then the security guard unlocked the doors. Dean and Castiel followed the couple in the suits to reception. 

"Hello my name is Mandy. Can I help you?"

"Mr Turner and Miss Thompson from British Petroleum, breakfast meeting with Vice-President Crowley."

"You are expected. Please take the far elevator to floor six; acquisitions. Mr Crowley will meet you at the boardroom. You have a nice day now."

The couple moved away.

Dean moved forward putting on his charm-the-ladies smile.

"Hello my name is Mandy. Can I help you?"

"Well Hello Mandy," Dean said checking if her chest was just as Scandinavian as the rest of her and not being disappointed, "Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak, we are expected on the top floor."

Hello-my-name-is-Mandy's eyes widened and her jaw dropped, "Just go up, here you need a key card to access the penthouse" and she passed Castiel a card.

"I guess our reputation precedes us. Thanks Mandy" Dean winked at her and they went to the elevator.

As Castiel swiped the card, Dean started tapping his foot on the ground. He kept tapping nervously as the elevator ascended.

The elevator halted and the door slid back soundlessly. Castiel stepped out ahead of Dean.

Dean looked at the apartment. The room they were in seemed to be the main living area. It continued around the left of the elevator shaft behind them. A few feet to their other side a huge fireplace came out from the wall at a right angle, continuing half way across the room where that wall ended. There was long rectangular mirror spanning the width of huge fireplace. There was lots of slate, polished tiles on the floor and a rough slate coffee table in front of the hearth. There was a silver leather corner sofa around that. On the opposite side of the room from the elevator was a clear toughened glass dining table surrounded by eight high-backed tubular steel framed chairs. There were white rugs on the floor and a white throw balled up in the corner of the sofa. There were no paintings but huge plate glass windows and balcony doors. Music was playing at a low volume, but Dean couldn't see any stereo or I-pod dock. He thought it was Queens of The Stone Age, Go with the Flow. 

There was some evidence that Sam was there. Dean could see Sam's battered gym shoes against the balcony door. His laptop was on the coffee table. There was a clear plastic bag of Sam's dirty clothes beside the elevator door. Dean looked more closely at the bag. He could see something white with grass stains on it. It was the suit. He tried not to think of the future he had seen when Zachariah had given him an all expenses paid trip to 2014. His reverie was interrupted by Sam's voice coming from around the fireplace, from the kitchen. 

"Would some vicodin help your back? I know you said the grace is healing you but you can barely straighten up. You did too much for me."

Dean knew that was Sam's voice and he seemed to be talking to Lucifer as a separate person, Dean released the breath that he had not even released he had been holding since he saw the leg of the suit.

Sam continued, "The green smoothies we had last Monday were great. Can we have those again?"

Dean's blood started to boil at the idea of Sam having to ask for permission to eat.

Castiel cleared his throat.

Sam came around the corner. He looked awful, as if he hadn't slept for days. Lucifer followed him walking very slowly.

Castiel spoke first, "What has happened to you both? Has there been a battle? Are you alright?"

Lucifer looked at his fellow angel, "We had a problem during the night, I had to produce my wings, but we will be. You are early." 

He moved over to the dining table and pulled out the first chair, swung a leg over the seat, and sat on it backwards resting his arms on the back facing Cas and Dean. He eased out his shoulders and looked over at Sam who was still standing near the fireplace looking at Dean.

Sam could see Dean was tensing up.

Dean pointed at the laundry bag "Trying to get rid of the evidence before I arrived. Were you Sam?"

"What are you talking about man?"

"You wore the suit. Does that mean that you let him in again?"

Sam just nodded.

"Kill anyone?" Dean snarled.

"No Dean."

Dean pulled the Colt out from the back waistband of his jeans and pointed it at Lucifer.

Lucifer said calmly, "That gun doesn't work on me, remember?"

"No, but it will give you a mega-headache" and he kept the gun pointed at the point between Lucifer's eyes, while he began to talk to Sam. "Remember Sam. Remember that field, that night, when he slaughtered a whole town? Don't you remember that?"

Sam looked at the tiles and said slowly, "Put the Colt away Dean. That happened during the apocalypse."

"Sam, that doesn't make it OK." Dean ground out through his teeth.

"I didn't say that it made it OK. But I've done things, man. I did things while I was here without my soul that would make your blood curdle, that has made your blood curdle.” Sam huffed and shook his head, “I did things you don't know about when I was with Ruby. After I said yes in Detroit and before The Cage, we took care of business together. I am not going to start throwing stones. There is no apocalypse now. Dean please put away the gun.”

Dean lowered the colt and said, "I thought I could do this Sam. But I can't. Not with him sitting there. He has twisted all your memories. He has brainwashed you. I don't know how to get you back."

"Dean I am right here." Sam pleaded extending his arms palm out in a gesture of peace and taking a step towards his brother.

"I can't, Sam. I am sorry. I can’t even look at you with him.” Dean turned away and said quietly, “I don’t know if I ever will be able to. Come on Cas". 

Dean pressed the elevator button. He said nothing and did not turn around while he waited for the door to open and then stepped into the elevator, although he could hear Sam saying with increasing emotion, "Dean, please Dean, don't go. I haven't gone anywhere. Please stay for a while. Dean don’t go."

On the elevator ride down to reception Dean stared straight ahead. He didn't even blink when he saw Hello-my-name-is-Mandy's eyes were black as they walked to the exit.

Once they were back in the Impala, Dean turned to Cas and said "I am going to kill him."

"You know Dean it is not possible to kill him." Castiel tried to reason.

"I am going to summon Death and make him kill him."

"But Death has told you that he is not doing you any more favours, and you can't do it."

"You watch me Cas." Dean gave the angel a death stare.

"No Dean, listen to me" Cas sounded even more serious and was pronouncing his words carefully,"It would kill Sam. His soul and Lucifer's grace have knitted together now. Sam would be taken too, Dean." 

Dean thumped the steering wheel.

________________________________________________

Sam spent the rest of the day sitting on the balcony watching the traffic below, faintly hoping that the Impala would make a re-appearance. He was aware that Lucifer was busy in the apartment. Lucifer was removing every knife, gun, blade, bottle of medication and all of Sam's belts from their home. After it got dark, he came out onto the balcony and knelt in front of Sam. Sam didn't look at him. Lucifer took both of Sam's hands in his own. "Please come in babe. We can have some take out."

"Is that because you can't cook anything with without a knife in the apartment?"

"Sam, please you'll catch a chill, come in. I can't lift you up. My back isn't fully healed yet. Please come and sit on the sofa with me."

Sam followed Lucifer in and let him put him on the sofa and cover him with the throw. He ordered some sushi and fed it to Sam, who didn't taste it but swallowed it to please Lucifer. 

“Come to bed, Sam”.

Sam stood up and followed into the bedroom. He sat on the bed and let Lucifer undress him. He looked blankly at the bathroom door while Lucifer undressed and climbed across the bed behind him. Lucifer pulled Sam down onto the mattress and pulled the covers up over them. Instead of spooning he faced Sam and put his hand over Sam’s heart. “What can I do?”

“I might never see him again.”

“He’ll come around, Sammy. It might take a while but Dean shouts his mouth off and then regrets it.”

“No Luce, he meant it.”

“Just wait a few days, he will phone you.”

Sam shook his head. “He pointed the Colt at you. He meant that.”

“Sam, Sammy, listen. We’ll get through this. We’ll talk to Castiel, get him make Dean phone you. I’ll get a tail put on him so we know where he is, and when you feel strong enough, you can go and approach him.”

“Dean only does what Dean wants to do. He can be as stubborn as me.”

“We will work it out, babe. Get some sleep, and please don’t get up during the night.”

______________________________________

Sam woke at 3am. He was hit by the thought that it was impossible to fix things with Dean. He thought that it would have been better if he had never been born, if his soul had never been created. Dean would have had a normal life and never had to experience all the pain he had brought his brother. Dean would be alright without him, Cas was getting him through it already. Even Luce next to him was lying awkwardly after ripping his vessel apart to comfort him. He could even bring pain to Lucifer. His existence ruined his parents’ lives, his brother’s life. He had disappointed Dean again.

He pulled out from under Lucifer’s arm.

“Where are you going Sam?”

“Have to piss, don’t worry you took away all the knives.”

“Don’t be long, I miss you.”

Sam leaned over, touched Lucifer’s cheek lightly with his lips and breathed in his ear “I love you”.

Sam entered the bathroom and turned on the light. He opened the medicine cabinet and found the packet of disposable plastic safety razors that Lucifer had replaced his normal one with. He ripped open the pack as he slid down the wall between the toilet and the bath. He realised that he was in the same position that he had been in the vision. His mind was numb. He held the cheap razor in his hand and tried to slice into his stomach. It only produced red line marked out by beads of blood. 

The pain felt good and clean. He did it three more times all the way across his stomach. It looked like he had been clawed very precisely by a monster with OCD. The razor was too blunt to inflict any serious damage. He looked around him. There was a bottle of bleach under the toilet cistern. He leaned over and grabbed it. He unscrewed the cap and took a small swig. It burnt him on the way down. He hadn’t planned on doing anything that would burn him. He paused, the open bottle in one hand and the cap in his other. There were full lines of blood forming on his stomach.

Lucifer burst through the bathroom door. “YOU WILL NOT DO THIS!”

Lucifer’s grace blazed in the room and crashed into Sam.

_I am taking control, Sam, step back._

_I’m not worth it._

"Sam, just stay in the background."

Lucifer moved out of the bathroom and raced to the kitchen. He wrenched the fridge door off the appliance and poured a whole quart of milk down Sam’s throat. Milk spilled out of his mouth and down his chest. He grabbed a towel and wiped the mixed blood and milk off his chest and stomach.

He went back into the bedroom and grabbed his own phone.

“Ashmandeth, I need the name of the nearest top psychiatric hospital, NOW!”

_Not going back to hospital, Luce, please. ___

Lucifer ignored Sam’s inner protest, moving to Sam’s wardrobe. He pulled on a pair of his jeans, his red t-shirt and his converse, not bothering with underwear or socks. Then he ran into the living room and pulled the hearth mirror off the wall shattering it on the slate tiles. He opened the concealed safe and rifled through their stash of IDs. There were two with Sam’s photo on them, one for Luke Morningstar and one for Sam Morningstar. Lucifer pocketed the Sam version and an insurance card to match. The phone was ringing.

_Go to sleep Sam. We are moving._

______________________________________________

Sam woke up in just about the nicest hospital room he had ever been in. There was a wardrobe and a bureau and flowers everywhere. They were tall long stemmed bunches of red blooms with lots of greenery. Sam thought they may have been Crocosmia ‘Lucifer’. He could see the tops of trees outside the window. Then he became aware of his hands. They were held at his sides in restraining cuffs and someone was holding his right hand. 

“Dean?” Sam’s voice sounded hoarse and it hurt to speak. 

“Sammy” Dean said his voice heavy with emotion.

There was a knock on the door and a nurse put her head around the door saying “Check”. She came into the room and looked at Sam. “You are awake, Mr Morningstar”.

Sam pushed against the cuffs.

“Wait a moment,” the nurse said, “I’ll get you out of those and make you more comfortable”. 

“Why am I held down?”

As the nurse unbuckled Sam’s hands she told him “You were trying to scratch at your stomach wounds, now once these are off, I’ll adjust the bed so you can sit up and see Dean more clearly” She looked longingly at Dean.

“Water? My throat.”

Dean leaned over with a straw and gave Sam a sip of water.

“What day is it?”

“Sunday” Dean said.

“Where am I?”

This time the nurse answered. “Stanford Psychiatric Clinic”.

Sam was shocked. “He took me to Stanford!”

The nurse sounded a little defensive as she replied, “We are considered the best psychiatric unit on the west coast. I’ll tell your partner you are awake. He is meeting with your social worker at the moment.”

Once she was gone, Dean started apologising. “Sammy, I am so sorry. I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I was trying to save you. I don’t want to lose you.”

“Dean, don’t be sorry.”

“Sam, please don’t die on me. I am only back from purgatory. I know I have been pushing you away.”

“How did you know I was here?”

“Lucifer called me. I was in an all night club on my way to getting completely thrashed. I thought it was you but I couldn’t hear a thing with the music. So I went into the back alley to hear you. Once I could hear your voice with his inflections I thought he was doing a Tyler Durden on me and he was in you again. I nearly hung up but then I heard what he was saying, that you had swallowed bleach and he had only taken over to get you to a hospital. I sobered up super quick and asked him which hospital...”

They were interrupted by another knock on the door. This time a young male nurse put his head around the door and said “Check”.

He came in wheeling a trolley. “Your meds, Mr Morningstar.”

“What are they?”

“Just anti-anxiety medications until you see the Doc.”

Sam took them and the nurse left.

“Dean, what is with the knocking and the ‘Check’?”

“You are on watch. They come in every 15 minutes and announce their presence by saying ‘Check’”.

Dean took Sam’s hand in his again. Sam dozed off for a few minutes.

Sam opened his eyes and Dean said, “I’m glad you are still here, Sasquatch.”

“Dean, I thought you would be better off without me.”

“No Sam.”

“You hate me.” Sam mumbled.

“No Sammy, no, I could never hate you, never.” Dean emphasised his sincerity by squeezing Sam’s hand.

There was another knock and “Check”.

Dean was saying to Sam, “It is like Grand Central Station in here.” As a middle aged woman with grey hair and half moon glasses came over to Sam. 

“Hi Sam. I’m Kath. I’m the Attending Psychiatrist. How are you feeling?”

“I’m OK, Doc. My throat is a bit raw.”

“Well you did the right thing drinking the milk when you realised what you had done. And you have done the right thing admitting yourself here. We will talk more tomorrow. I just came to introduce myself and to ask if you have any burning sensation further down your oesophagus or in your stomach.”

“No, just my throat and inside my mouth. Why was I restrained?”

“Do you remember arriving here early on Saturday morning?”

Sam shook his head.

“When you admitted yourself, you were very calm and rational but a little later after the nurse shift change you became very agitated and you were crying out about flames and tried to tear at your stomach wounds. We were concerned that your stomach was burning from the bleach and that you would damage yourself. We sedated you and had a look at your stomach and then just needed to prevent you from scratching at the injuries. How are you feeling now Sam?”

“I’m OK Doc. Thanks. My brother is here”.

“Good, Sam. We will have a scheduled meet up tomorrow.”

“Doc, can I ask? Am I allowed more than one visitor at a time?”

“Yes there is no restriction on that.”

“Can you ask someone to find Luce?”

“Are you alright with that, Mr Winchester?” The doctor giving Dean a look made of steel, “Can you both behave rationally around my patient?”

Sam realised that there must have been a fight. He looked at Dean again and noticed he had a shiner coming up on his left eye and he had split open a couple of knuckles. 

Dean nodded “Yes Doc. Sorry again. It was just a natural reaction. I think was in shock”.

“Save your charm offensive for the nurses. I do the diagnosing here. Mr Winchester I will not tolerate another incident between you and Mr Luke Morningstar.” The doctor said as she left the room.

Sam felt weary. He looked at Dean sadly. He loved his brother so much but he thought that Kath might be right about his ability to cope with a Dean Vs. Lucifer showdown over his hospital bed.

“I’ll play nice, Sam”. Dean promised.

There was another knock. Lucifer stood inside the door. Sam’s heart leapt. Dean looked at how Sam’s eyes brightened when he saw him. Lucifer came over to the other side of Sam’s bed and took Sam’s other hand. He lifted it to his lips and gave the back of Sam’s hand an open kiss rubbing his forked tongue in a little circle. “Never do that again.”

“I won’t.”

“I love you Sam.”

“Did I have to go to this length to make you realise that?”

Dean felt as if he had been dropped into the middle of an ongoing conversation.

“Sam, you were right. I didn’t know what it was. Angels were created with the ability to love only our Father and our siblings. I have told you before that I understand what you feel for Dean because I felt the strongest familial love for Michael. The love I have for you is different and more precious. I love you Sam, please don’t hurt yourself.”

“I won’t Luce. I promise”

“Hey Dude. I don’t want you to hurt yourself either.”

“I won’t Dean. I promise. How long do I have to stay here?”

Lucifer answered, “I don’t know yet, a while”.

Sam looked at Dean, “Can’t we do a breakout?”

“Not this time. God help me, I agree with Lucifer”.

“How am I going to talk to anyone? How do I explain anything that has happened to me to civilians? Without being permanently committed for devil delusions?”

“I don’t know Sam but we’ll work it out,” Dean smiled, “You can tell them your brother is a homophobic douche bag who can’t tolerate your partner, tell them you have an abnormal fear of fire to explain your nightmares.”

Lucifer squeezed his hand, “Tell them you used to be in an abusive relationship, they need to know that.”

Sam squeezed his hand back. 

Lucifer continued, “I hitched a ride home in a religious nurse who believed I was an angel, and I picked up Ashmandeth’s research report on this clinic, when I changed vessels. They have a ground breaking Anxiety Disorders Clinic, specialising in PSTD survivors and attention retraining. I think the attention treatment could help you with the, you know, flames. You need to be able to sleep outside my wings. You need to be able to spend a few nights alone in the apartment, or to go on a hunt with your brother.”

There was another knock and the male nurse stuck his head in to say “Check. Everything OK in here? You need anything holler. Visiting time is over in ten minutes. Mr Morningstar someone will come and take you to the shower room when your visitors have gone”

Dean said, “Don’t worry Sam. We will be here tomorrow for visiting time and you can tell us about your day.”

“I don’t want either of you to leave.”

This time Lucifer squeezed Sam’s hand, “Babe, we will be back tomorrow. They have set visiting hours but I will be here for all of them. I will never leave you be alone.” He bent over and tickled the top of Sam’s nose with his tongue. “I’ll stick my tongue out at anyone who gives you grief. I’ll let you say goodnight to Dean.” Lucifer paused at the door. “Don’t worry, Sam, you are going to be OK.”

When he had gone, Dean asked “Why is he threatening to stick his tongue out at people?”

“It’s forked.”

Dean laughed, “That must make a blow job interesting.”

“Dean!” Sam sounded shocked, “Out of bounds, remember, Impala Rule 3, no intimate details from the sex!”

“You only invented that rule to apply to me, because I was the only one getting any. It was a dumbass rule.”

“Dean?”

“Yeah Sammy?”

“Before you go. I need to apologise.” Sam ran his hand through his hair. His sheepish expression pulled at Dean’s heart.

“Stop with the apologising. I accept your apology. You don’t need to say it. I helped put that bleach in your hand, and I am so sorry, dude.”

“It’s not your fault Dean, and it is not Luce’s either.”

Dean’s mouth twisted as if he didn’t agree with the second half of Sam’s statement. But he smiled at his little brother as he stood to go and said. “Sammy, Truce?”

“Truce” Sam smiled at his brother.

Dean bent over and planted a flying kiss into the top of Sam’s hair. “You take care, Sammy. I’ll come visit with your satanic boyfriend tomorrow.” The words were said without spite but in teasing tones.

Sam laid back into the pillows and watched his brother leave his room. He turned his head to the array of orange blossoms, admiring their beauty and feeling a fledgling ray of hope.

__________________________________________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my Samifer. Grateful for your kudos.
> 
> I may write more later, about Sam's recovery and how Dean deals with Sam&Luce.


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